Diary...of the tragic life of a prostitute

I don't even know why I'm sitting here right now. Why am I sitting here..in his house? His name is Scot. With one T not two. His one T name is as obnoxious as he is. He's nice though. Nicer than other tricks I've had in the past. I mean, he's stuck by my side for five years. He has a great house, nice car, make 6 figures a year. My thoughts are jumbled. I need my anxiety pills. Ooohhhh...why am I even here?!! I said I wouldn't come back here and that I was done. That I was going to abstain from sex. Egh, gross, he's calling my name. If only I would've worked enough hours at my square job that I wouldn't have to be here. Its been months. I was doing good. Well, duty calls. I have no choice. I will explain more later. Don't use prejudice against me just yet until I tell you my story.