Q. What do you call a cross dresser who doesn’t dress?
If the answer is ‘cross’ then the hat certainly fitted earlier in the week. Thankfully, I have now calmed down a bit. I guess I was feeling stuck in the rat race. A silly prison of my own making. The feeling that it’s the same ol, same ol loop. At least, if you’re not thinking right and you start looking at things the wrong way.
What can you do? I suppose, rebel in little ways by not allowing yourself to be stuck. Doing things like a different route to work, buying your lunch from different places and trying to get out of the office. Make changes where you can and try to do the things I enjoy: reading, talking to people, a bit of gaming here and there. Oddly, that all seemed to help. It’s certainly kept me out of the dark woods.
|Cheer up, you arse|
Mind you, I still don’t have my trans mojo back, so it was a bloke mode visit to Chams. Maybe it’s fallen down the sofa, or got lost in the Narnia-like depths of my second wardrobe. Wherever it is, the good news is that I’ve saved a mint on summer clothes and there’s been a lot less rushing around, getting ready. I’ve certainly enjoyed not sweltering under a wig, during the hot weather. Mind you, the Centre now has air-con, so small mercies eh?
Anyhoo, a night out chatting was a welcome change. I also got to take a few snaps for people (hi Val), which brings me back to trying to do things for people. Perhaps I could do with the karma, as I handed over the lock-up keys to the group. Usually I lock up because I’m always last to get changed and I’m fairly regular. Hand them over I did (/Yoda) because it’s holiday for the Jones Massive in a few weeks. Some time away with our new hound – a new addition to the family – may just what I need. Then, we’re back for a bit during the summer holidays and we’re off for a short break. The Ever Lovely Mrs J will be away on a conference, and the nippers and I will fly over with her. Should be fun!
I look back a wonder how I could stop; put being trans behind me and ‘be normal’. Now, here I am, not dressing up and I’m wondering why. What a headf*** 🙂 Mind you, this still makes more sense than cheering 22 men chase a ball between some wooden posts. 😛