Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Same old same old

Damp.  Six months of rain in a day.
Now which six months...?
Indeed, exactly what it says on the tin.  My neck of the woods is damper than normal, so different in some ways, but otherwise the same.  About a week ago I had the opportunity to wear the skirt from Toby with my boots and a standard T shirt.  This was a nice experience, Tilly was out with a friend of hers from a distance away at a club, and I got to do some work on my own.  I, of course, only got about an hour or so, despite the fact that I could have had longer in the event, out of fear of being discovered I guess.  It was still nice, I loved the feeling of the heels on the boots and enjoyed the feeling of the skirt.  Like always I felt more like me, more... real.

Me, sulking.  Well, kinda.
However, real life has, of course, intervened and reminded me of a few home truths.  Work is better than last year, granted, my boss and I are having civil conversations.  More to the point, when I ask for clarification she actually tries to explain rather than getting annoyed and assuming that I'm being deliberately obtuse or undermining!  That said, I am now on the support programme with the next manager up and... it turns out my job description covers a welter of stuff!  In fact, what I'm supposed to do for my little corner is easily twice as much as my boss says she's doing and probably three times more than what she actually does.  I know this because I've done her job and I did what she does until about two years back.  Thus, as ever, I am vaguely irritated about things - because, you know, life is so fair and stuff.  I sound like a teenager.

Novelling!  Is it wrong that I want those hands?  It's wrong.
I'm always busy, and I seem to moan a lot too.  November approaches, and I hope to be writing a novel with nanowrimo for the first time in a few years, that would be nice.  Home is generally good.  Finances are looking up against this time last year - even with an exploding Dyson that we replaced - and that job interview seemed to go well.  I did enjoy it.  If they get back to me and offer the job I'm thinking that I would have a hard time turning them down.  The fact that they asked the questions they did and gave positive feedback in the interview itself was wonderfully affirming.  I mean, I'm not thinking that they would offer me the job - I don't think I'm that good - but I did like the cut of their jib and the job itself would be... well, unique.

The midnight sun: yes please, that's just mad enough to work.
Also, Norway.
I guess I still hanker for adventure.  I meant it when I was on online dating when I said that I wanted to see the sun shining at midnight and to spend a week on a train.  I want to see water freeze as it's thrown from a bucket, hear wolves howling in the moonlight, hold a bird of prey and find that old place down a back alley in a tourist spot that tourists don't go to.  I want to walk for the sake of walking until I get tired and stop, I want to camp in the wilderness and be in a place where the only human beings are the ones there with me.  The USAF job is that kind of adventure.  My job was an adventure once.  If I can move through threshold I will drop the management position in the Department.  I enjoy running off timetable days, I do not enjoy man-management and I do not enjoy the pressure being brought to bear.  Mind you, that's as much the fault of the profession in the UK as it is the fault of where I work.

Education is an adventure.  Teaching, these days, is not.  Work!

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!