Date With, Destiny.

She spent so long " on her back " she knew the ceiling " like the back of her hand "  ! This seemed appropriate, as source memory, considering her knowledge of what she was most capable, and enthusiastic, of being a part of. With limited workplace, or academic, study she had to throw herself into fundamental income streams. Primarily driven by basic needs, of her age. She could not earn a living through craft, unlike others, but, had to rely whole-heartedly on what came most readily to hand. Men, and women, falling at her feet to escape their partners, and commitment. She had the edge, where it most counts, she felt. In the relay of satisfaction, stemming from primal urges. Well, that is how she saw, it.
The ceiling of her ambitions was there in stark reality. Where she gave to others all she could in " cleansing " confidence-boosting sensation. Was this ever enough ? Considering the " talk " with clients, and her assessment of their influence or scope for " passing through " the steeper learning curves of the university which matters most. Life. With all its variety of ways to test. And reward, by gaining more from experiences, beyond the usual " home comforts " ! 
In her mind was the saving of payments and perks from the most regular visitors to her " church " ! Which would take her from this simplistic outlook, to foreign lands, where promises were richly fulfilled. Apart from the usual, that is. Which everyone, here, seemed to get, if nothing else. And, abuse thoroughly, at times. It had to be said.
How much she longed for more. Much more.
The irony was so strong she could taste the wine of Mediterranean excess at every " meeting of minds " ! The cause of her dedication to " industry " clear before those who already voyaged through waters of discovery. Towards, a " Promised Land. "  She knew, now, what she wanted. And pleasingly, how best to get it. Like, them.
She smiled. At her formulaic endeavour to achieve the " dream scenario. "  She had bought into. Entirely. The belief, in the end, of  getting what she needed out of life, becoming the making of her. Why would, that, not be ? Giving thought to her " driving force " motivation. Separated, from the mundane. Open, to visions of purest contentment and fresh pathways to lessen effects of passing years. And, tears.
You could, for a price, feel the excitement. Of being transported somewhere different. To reach new heights.