No phone talk tonight, yay!

The great thing about tonight is its Sunday and I don’t have to work on the phones tonight. Yay! I don’t have to pretend to be interested in the sexual wants and needs of the men in today’s society. Because I really don’t give a shit. I’ve had so much sex in my life I couldn’t care less if I never see another penis again.
Well, I say that. Maybe I’m being a bit hasty. I’d quite like to get out there again and have some more sex. I just feel too old lol, it’s been a while, and not sure I want some stranger to see my overgrown, unkempt Lady Garden lol.
Anyway, the rotten thing about tonight was I had to do my dishwashing job at the local pub. Bummer eh, having to wash dishes. Oh well, beggars cant be choosers as they say.
And right now I’m a beggar, practically. I used to earn decent money, but it all went on maintenance of me (hair, nails, sexy clothes etc) so I never saved any or did the sensible thing and bought a house. No, I spent it, and drank it and drugged it all away. Now I live in the country, get paid to talk dirty on the phone (and its not as high paid as you’d think either) and wash dishes in the local pub a couple of nights a week.
I am seriously pissed off with myself for getting into this situation. I really have to up my game on the phone and start making my calls last longer and try harder to fake it better. I know I can do it. Other than that, the only way out I can see is to go back to escort work, but alas alack, this time as an older woman. OMG how bloody tragic is that. I’ll be one of those sad old birds that we youngsters used to pity and sometimes laugh at. Oh well, I’ve had worse, so long as the money is good enough. I hate the thought of returning to it, but if I do, at least I am sensible now and will use the money wisely (save it and wait for the bottom to drop out of the property market then buy buy buy!) Well, that’s after I’ve paid off the debts.
Last time I really fucked up. I started to party and it went downhill from there. I had a good time doing it though hehe.
When I came to London from The Other Side Of The World, I had already been an escort for about 6 years and was doing okay, but still fucked up by having a boyfriend who lived off me- for some stupid, ignorant, immature reason I seemed to think that was a cool lifestyle. What an idiot.
Once here in London, I wanted to get into escorting as it was all I knew.
Well, not true actually. I had been horse riding since the age of eight and was pretty good, all I needed was the right tuition to enable me to make a decent career out of it, but I had got used to a lazy lifestyle. For a start, I no longer did early mornings unless I was on my way home from a club. (that’s sure is a funny feeling you know, walking down Oxford St, at 8.30am, wearing a tight black evening dress and shiny shoes, make up a little worn and obviously quite pissed. Everyone else dressed in suits, looking at the Dirty-Stop-Outs. Tut tut)
I also wanted to experience true city life. I had lived in cities before, but they were small fry compared to London, New York etc and I wanted, needed, to have it. I did have the opportunity to train with a top trainer but I opted out of having the luxury of a single bed in a room shared with three others and a lousy £80 per week as a ‘working pupil’. I now know it was a big mistake as who knows where I’d be today if I had grabbed that opportunity. Possibly preparing for the Olympics? (altho I wouldn’t go to bloody China, I’d boycott ‘em) But certainly not on my back hooking for the next twenty years, I’d say.
So I decided to stay in London where, whilst I was checking out escort agencies, I discovered the crazy world of hostessing and that was it, I was hooked.
That’s all for tonight, more later. Have to get me beauty sleep. Nite Nite.