And then, frustration set in...
Jun. 2nd, 2003 03:28 amSo okay, I'm getting past frustrated and headed straight into downtown irritated. I feel like the titan Atlas, with the weight of the world perched upon my shoulders. My dear beloved partner can't work right now because of her carpal tunnel, and hasn't for around 2 months now. Her income is what pays for the house, the cars, the utilities, the food...well, you get the point. I guess you could call me a "kept man." Anyway, it's my meager income that's supporting us right now...if you can call it that. I only work part time for Christ's sake! And every time I try to ask her to contact the morons at Sedgewick, the private L&I-type company Qwest contracts, to find out what's going on with her temporary disability, she gets all snippy and growly at me about it. Like it's MY fault their collective head is up their collective ass. And, to top it all off, even when we're alone, she still refers to me as "she" or "her." Worse yet, EVERY friggin time I strip for bed, the second I unbind my chest she just HAS to point out the fact that it's still a female chest by pointing and chanting "Hooters Hooters Hooters." It's like my identity has no meaning to her. Or like my feelings on the subject have no merit, and therefore bear no significance to life in general. And no matter how many times I tell her I prefer the name Mike, she INSISTS on using my birth name! I swear to God, I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall, only I'd be willing to bet the wall would be more understanding of the situation! Isn't it bad enough she's making me wait to transition until we both lose a few pounds? Does she have to make light of my condition by first grabbing at the packer in my pants, making some snide, smartassed dick comment, and then pointing out my tits at the first available opportunity??? AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*pant pant gasp gasp*
Okay, I think I'm done now...
Mike
*pant pant gasp gasp*
Okay, I think I'm done now...
Mike