When we get out, we get out together

8 May

Katrina and I are re-connecting back home since we live about 20 minutes from each other.

She is looking for a job. I sent her some recommendations.
Then I found out that on her resume, she put that she had been a staff member (not a working girl but part of the staff) at our home brothel for two years.

I went, “oh no no no, we can’t have that.”
I said if she really wants to get out, we’re going to have to work on her back story.
We’re going to have to fabricate a resume.

In other words, we will have to Lie.

I have a guy friend of mine who is an excellent story teller and I told her, he would be the guy that would say that she worked for him as her assistant. He owns a business, so this is easy to do.

She told me that she would need help because she is a terrible liar.
I said if she can sell the story of sex,
she can sell damn near anything.

I don’t want to get into the morals of lying.
I think if somebody wants to start over and create a new life for themselves and get out of the sex industry, lying is ok in this scenario.
You can’t go applying for jobs and going to job interviews having an air of shame about you for the place you used to work. You just can’t. Or else you won’t get the job.

Katrina is such an amazing person, there is really no reason that she should have to put her life on hold. There’s lots of other things that she would do well at and I’m sure make at least as much as she made at the ranch, if not more.

So you readers are saying to yourselves, “Bambi, why don’t you think the same about yourself?”

Oh, I do.
I know I deserve the same things for myself.
Katrina and I found a way to “beat the system” for a while…but then the system will beat you. (Meaning, your psyche)

I’m taking on lots of extra side jobs and finding out that I don’t need all the extra free time that I thought I did, and as much as I “thought” that I needed allllll this flexibility in my schedule to make life work around my art….I’m an avid day dreamer, and a champion multi-tasker.

As an artist, I’ve done a lot of wheel spinning, as have most of my friends.
The conversations I’ve had with all of them about depression?
There’s too many to count.

The needless re-playing of twisted scenes from our love lives?
Daily play by plays of all the tiny events that happen with our muses and our obsessions? We don’t need them.

The complaining about how everything sucks?
The lamenting about the lack of money?

Extra hard work can fix all of that.
When I told Genevieve how little my current job paid per hour, she said, “I can’t afford to work for that little…”

and I’m thinking, “yet you can afford to bitch about it….”

Here, I at least know a paycheck is coming.
I know that x hours equals x dollars.
But in Nevada….one day or two days where no money was coming in was world crushing because it meant…
one more day longer I might have to stay working.
One more day away from my loved ones.
One more night of getting shitty sleep in the smoke filled air.

Here I don’t have to worry about that, and it is nice.
I might EVEN be able to skip out on anti-depressants. Wow.

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