Me, I'm pretty boring. I grew up on a ranch, rode my first horse and drove my first tractor at the age of 4. Did all the usual juvenile stuff (and a few things a bit more ambitious--even if some of them were of dubious legality) until I went to college to study cartography (mapmaking). It quickly became apparent that I had no artistic ability whatsoever, so I switched over to Geology. (This was back when it took a supercomputer to handle GIS. Only grad students had access.) Of course, this was in the thick of Clinton's presidency, and the changing land use regulations quickly meant a glut of unemployed geologists. Realizing how much debt I'd accrued, and that my degree would make a nice placemat if I paid to have it laminated, I dropped out my Junior year and enlisted in the Marine Corps, guaranteed infantry. The intent was originally to go the Mustang route, but I quickly realized that I didn't want to stay for one moment longer than I had to. I did my four honorably, and although we were on the tarmac a couple of times, it was only saber rattling and the flag never went up. I got out, built computers for a bit, got hitched, and moved. Spent a couple years working security at a hospital complex in the inner city. Wrestling with druggies and psych patients on a semi-pro basis was kind of fun, but I wouldn't recommend any of the rest of it. We moved again, and I spent a year or so telling fictional stories and outrageous lies as a tour guide. That's pretty much the end of my work history. I've done a few odd jobs over the last decade, but most of it's been spent staying at home and taking care of our autistic oldest child. We've back where I grew up, but much of the ancestral homestead's been laying fallow for a couple decades now, it'll take a number of years to get it cleared again.