Getting between Swansea and Cardiff is its own kind of marathon. Train schedules, petrol prices, client expectations. Sometimes I feel like a logistics manager more than an escort.
Last week was rough. Three Cardiff bookings, two Swansea regulars. My Toyota's seen better days. The motorway feels longer each time. I know every service station, every weird turn-off, every speed camera between here and there.
Most people don't get how exhausting this is. Not the sex part. The constant moving. The constant switching. Different energy in each city. Cardiff feels harder. More professional, less forgiving. Swansea has a softness. People know each other here. Even the clients seem more human.
I'm not complaining. This is my work. But some days the constant code-switching drains me completely. Different outfit. Different persona. Different expectations.
Sometimes I just want to sit still. Nowhere to be. No performance to give.