A Good Day

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Last week, I took off work on Friday so that I could have an extra day of being me. I can be me after work, but I don’t get to wear lacquer on my nails and some cosmetics. It’s too much to do for just a few hours after work and then must take it all away again. “Too much” applies to emotionally as well as physically.

We bought a portable generator for our house, considering we lose power when it rains hard or when we have a lot of snow. Last time we were out of power for 4 days. Lowes delivered in on Thursday, it was bolted to a pallet with no wheels or support structure assembled, that was left for me. At 350 lbs, the generator is not huge but very much out of my ability to lift. I had left the generator to deal with on Friday since I had that day off. I waited to put on cosmetics and getting dressed, and just threw on a peasant blouse and jeans and my ballet slippers, and went into the cold garage to get the generator assembled. Something I didn’t think about is using the roll-on adhesive for my breast forms and of course the first thing to happen as I was bending over removing the bolts from the frame and the pallet was to lose my right breast form. It just fell out, at my feet. I stood there looking at it. It took me a moment to realize what it was and I just sat down laughing/crying. I was laughing because it was ludicrous and I was crying because this doesn’t happen to a lot of other women. I went back in and took out my breast forms, not really knowing why I wore them in my bra in the first place, and went back into the garage to finish the project. Once it was all together I found a nice place to store it and went in to take a shower and shave.

Once out of the shower, I tried on some clothes that my wife had given me about a year ago, a nice brown skirt and floral blouse with browns and tans in it. It’s not my usual color scheme, typically I like blacks, violet to red-violet. But I was willing to give it a try as I had some tan slouch boots that I hadn’t really been able to wear with much except jeans. I ended up liking the look and decided to cover my nails with a brown ICE lacquer called “scandal”. Who names these colors, seriously? I decided to forgo cosmetics and just put on some lipstick as I wasn’t going out or anything.

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Once I finished everything I considered myself in the full mirror and was pleased with the entire ensemble. So pleased, in fact, that I took a selfie and posted it on my Instagram. I typically don’t take selfies unless I have applied cosmetics, but what the hell, I felt good. [Later I learned that one person on Instagram thought I was a crossdresser, so not so great, but I’m not dwelling on that] I wanted to be outside but didn’t want to leave the house, so since my cell works outside and not so much inside, I decided it was a good time to call my best friend, Joe. The good thing about calling Joe was that not only did we need to catch up, he always makes me feel like a beautiful woman. So, for me, calling Joe is always a win-win. We talked for a while about ourselves and family, then it went of course to our true passion, movies and tv shows.

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I am about to tell you something, I don’t think I have ever mentioned it before, but it’s a source of great frustration for me. I hate checking the postbox at the end of our driveway when I am me. I always feel like I am being far too closely inspected when vehicles drive by. I’m fine out in public, people are generally concerned with their own lives and pay little attention to others. But despite being in a mostly rural area, the road we live on is a small highway and is usually busy during the day and I feel all their attention is on me. As I was talking to Joe I realized that I hadn’t checked the post the previous day and so there must be something in the box. I went up, talking on the phone and cars passing by and got the post out of the box. I didn’t even realize the importance of the act until I did it and had walked halfway back up the drive. I had gotten so involved talking to Joe about “The Magicians” series and how I hadn’t yet seen Neil Gaimans “American Gods” tv series that I didn’t look both ways down the street for cars, or overthink getting the post. I just went up and got it out of the box as cars went by. The world didn’t end. I didn’t get honked at or yelled at for being trans or a “guy in a dress”. The only thing that happened was I now had envelopes in my hand and a smile on my face. Ends up the post was nothing but junk so was tossed into the bin. But the smile stayed on my face the entire day. I won’t be hesitating to check our post anymore, lesson learned and normalcy gained.

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