The very hardest part being a sex worker is integrating it with the job that comes first, being a mother. One of the reasons I started doing this was that I was sick, sick, sick of being JUST a mom, but it is still my first obligation.

I’m not trying to hide my work from my kids. I am not ashamed of doing this, nor would I be distressed if my son or daughter chose a similar occupation. But you know, you can’t exactly do a sexy cam-show with a couple of preschoolers scampering about. Even if it weren’t illegal, most customers would still find it a turn off. *I* find it a turn-off. :-p

I don’t expect customers to have to deal with this; I figure once they’ve paid it’s my job to give them what they paid for - just as I would expect from any other professional. I strive to schedule things so that my interactions with clients don’t get interrupted, which is not easy. But the harder task is getting in the right mood for my work. After having spent an exhausting day dealing with godawful messes, nerve-shattering shreiking, and continual battles of will it can be difficult to play the sexy siren with any sincerity.

It makes me laugh sometimes when guys show just how clueless they are about any of this. There’s one fellow in particular who is always talking about me as if I were constantly exuding sex-appeal, always on the verge of ravishing somebody, barely in control of my erotic compulsions. That is so fucking ridiculous to me, when I spend most of my time wearing smocks decorated with peanut butter and playing tea-party or legos.