Thank god.
This week has been like a whip snap mop attack, my nerves stretched thin, my exhaustion complete. Thanks work. Thanks job, I couldn't have done it without you...
Plus, I haven't femulated in sooo long.
(in my mind I'm tapping my fingernails, red, long, self-manicured, along the kitchen counter)
Until tonight.
Interesting behavorial observation:
During the last twelve days (I get to go all out one night a week, and my general, subtle feminine ways are allowable during the rest of the week. Putting it that way sounds bad, but what it really amounts to is baby steps. My wife is allowing this to grow, but prefers an organic, slower process--I'm down. I prefer it quick and fast) perhaps out of conditioning, perhaps from my heart, I have found myself mentally skipping from male dominated energies to female dominated energies at an hourly pace. Most of my life the female urges have been dominated by waves, to borrow the metaphor from Petra but now I find my energies switching more frequently.
It's nice. I will monitor. I will report, report, report.
But I digress...so finding myself alone for an extra two hours this afternoon and gasp...went outside to take the trash to the bin, in 5 inch heels, boi jeans and a gyrl tee, allowing my feminine steps to enlarge at the hips and shorten at the knee. It feels natural that way, and cautious too, for I am not gliding in 5 inch heels, 3 yes, in 5 I'm more than competent, but my grace fades at times from lack of experience.
And I have begun the evening with casual attire. Sandals, jeans, cheap Big Lots blouse (bland but serviceable in a variety of outfits), and a 70s orange headband
And after a break a black pencil skirt, pink blouse, hose.
And after and after and after....
