Seven days in a life of TCP

"You are an influencer! I had no idea you were interested!"

Well, I ain't one of those people, nor is my life the dream life of an influencer who brushes her hair with a new fancy hairbrush in front of a camera, and voila, magical amounts of money are pouring into her account. 

My life is more like a life of an unknown rock band, hoping that after eight hours of work, they might get a gig in a bar somewhere in the middle of nowhere. This band knows very well that to be successful, you must leave your soul on the stage, even if only three people are listening (regular customers hanging at the bar don't count). 

Many of you imagine that my life is a life of an influencer who, after three years of publishing, can afford a new house somewhere on the outskirts of Ljubljana. Unfortunately, I don't organize online tea parties on Instagram, and I don't show my face, but, on the other hand, more than a hundred toys have passed the highway between my legs. So is this the key to the magical Maldives or not?

Not. Three years of writing did not bring me Maldives, only a commission of twenty-eight dollars. Well, the payout is still pending, but I'm happy about it as I was feeling the sandy beach under my feet and watching the blue sea. But since many people still ask me what my days are like, I will answer them all in one swoop. So let's start at the beginning, with Monday.

Monday - the longest day of my life: 

The alarm goes off at 5.50. I stumble out of bed after hitting the snooze button only once. I sadly glance at the closet where I keep my toys. I realize deep down inside that I will have no time this morning to use them either. The orgasm will have to wait until the afternoon; I desperately need a cup of coffee to get my mind to work. Since nothing boils on the glass-ceramic hob in less than five minutes, I brush my teeth, get dressed, and forcibly powder my face. I can't put the mascara on; the water is boiling. After all the morning rituals, my ass is freezing on the way to the car. At that moment, my head wants to return to my bed. When I imagine two warm bodies lying close to each other, I feel the warmth inside me. A few minutes after seven, I am already sitting in my office, and then I have to turn off my mischievous and horny side. 

While trying to satisfy every customer's wish because they are always right, I find a moment to go to the toilet where, with luck, I might not be disturbed. That's when I check my TCP emails, Instagram, Facebook, and Reddit and enjoy the good sex of some couples (yes, I'm a bit nasty, but that's my only valve at work, apart from coffee). 

Around four o'clock, I go back home exhausted. I still share my home with my parents, so I can't find it even when I would love to have some peace. Since I made a New Year's resolution to take 10,000 steps daily, I usually rush out after lunch. Good thing I can listen to podcasts and use my radar for hunting interesting things about sexuality. If that's not enough, I spend the rest of the evening on the computer, revising an article, or laying in bed reading. I would do anything for Monday to be over. Orgasm will have its turn on Tuesday.

Tuesday - yoga day:

Repeat the first and second paragraphs of Monday. No walk on this day, so I have time before yoga to test a new toy, which will be published on the website a few weeks later. After yoga, I'm just tired and fall asleep. 

Wednesday - the day before D-Day:

I rush out of work and chase the last sunlight to take a picture of the toy for Thursday's review or article. I check the text I wrote in the last breaths of the past weekend and test the toy one last time, more for myself than for the article. Then I go for a walk, watch TV, use a new toy and go to bed. 

Thursday - D-Day:

After four days of arguing with customers, I'm already drained. The only thing keeping me up is the publication of the article. I try to get out of work at three every time, but I rarely manage it. After lunch, I sit in front of my computer again, preparing the article, and checking the Slovenian and English versions, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter posts. Then, it's time to click the "publish" button between six and seven o'clock. After that, I check the website to ensure everything works as it should and answer emails and comments. Unfortunately, this part sometimes has to wait until the end of the week. 

Friday - a day of disappointment or joy: 

On this day, as soon as I get up, I check how the previous day's post was received by people. If it was good, I'd be so happy that I sing in the car all the way to work. If the results were not satisfying, I drive to work in total silence, thinking about what I needed to do better, how I should advertise the article, and what I did wrong. This thinking sometimes extends into working hours. Who needs me anyway? It's Friday. In the afternoon, my brain is fried, and I usually want to lay in my bed and have an orgasm or two. Well, I typically have to go to the grocery store, so that orgasm is postponed to a later hour. 

Saturday and Sunday - orgasms, toys, and coffee:

That's the plan, which mostly succeeds if I'm not too wrecked from the week. I still need to write an article for the current week and one for the week ahead, but that's wishful thinking. I have plenty of time for orgasms and coffee. I cook and tidy up in between because my head can't relax if the flat isn't shining. 

This is the outline of a week of an "influencer" who has orgasms for a hobby. Although the Maldives remain out of my reach, I spend my free time exactly as I have always wanted to - in the excellent company of my silicone friends.