Categories trans


I wish I could have my desk inside a camping tent at work.

It would be so fun!

It would protect me from the chilly HVAC air which continually dries out my eyes and who's droughts keep my hands numb through the entire summer. It would block all but the most glaring of the incredibly bright windows that everyone insists be open 24/7, despite the fact that I can't see my computer screen while they are. It would also ensure I felt separated just enough from general work stress, noise, and arguments, though it wouldn't separate me from them in any substantial way. Just enough to feel like I could hide if I needed to. (And trust me, sometimes I need to.)

In fact, why don't I admit I actually miss our old cubicle walls we donated when we moved from our old building? Because it would have been so easy to bring in some nice sheets to drape over that and build my own little personal tech fort.

Oh well. I guess work isn't autism-friendly for a reason. If one person gets special considerations everyone is going to want something special.

"Whaaaat, Erin gets a tent? Then I want a heater!"

"Yeah, I want a mini fridge and Jolt cola!"

"What about support, we want cooler phones!!"

Sigh. Never mind, I guess.

Categories mental health, work


This has been a curious week. I have

  • Gotten off of my crummy SSRI anti-depressant (which was, ironically, making my depression and anxiety worse)
  • Gone in to work as myself, and was largely treated like nothing had changed
  • Was correctly gendered by a total stranger (employee) at the Post Office (tacit approval from the US Government? Heh)
  • Had a boy flirt with me somewhat aggressively at a health food store (Apparently while I'm not allowed to flirt with people while they're working, it's •totally• okay for them to flirt with me?)

The Post Office thing was actually less spectacular than I make it out to be. My mother and I went into town for a few errands, and we stopped at the post office first to exchange our many pick-up slips for parcels. Turned out there were three packages waiting for us to collect them. As mom had finally started to pick them up the nice lady said, "you girls have a nice day!"

I'd been having a crummy day up until that point, and under no delusions that I pass at all, so I was understandably happy.

The health food store was a bit less implied, and more direct. In fact, it was dead obvious. As we came in there was a young-ish man, probably mid twenties or early thirties sweeping up while the proprietor puttered around. The youth greeted us in an unusually pleasant manner, I noticed. As I made eye contact with him, his smile got a few clicks wider, so I smiled back. My first thought was, "okay, is this guy weird or what?" Yet I smiled nonetheless, because that's what you do.

Mom chose the products she wished to purchase, and we made our way back to the counter. Me walking as precisely and carefully as possible, as I felt inordinately nervous under all this sudden attention.

The young man had set his broom down so he could check us through, and I noticed he was mostly looking at me, not his customer, my mother, who was the one buying things. I didn't say anything, because it seemed strange, so I looked around and pretended to be bored instead. As mom payed I glanced around idly, and flicked my gaze to the guy once. He was still looking at me!

Finally, the transaction complete, he addressed her directly to ask if she wished a bag. She declined respectfully, and shouldered her purse once more, gathering her purchases into her arms.

The kid said, "have a great day, now!" looking directly at me, smiling so wide I almost giggled at the blithe obliviousness he seemed to exude. I managed a slightly wider smile of my own, which hopefully did not look too much like the rictus of anxiety it felt like.

As we finally got outside and far enough away from the front of the store, my mother slowed down and said very seriously (but incredulously), "Erin, Erin, was that man flirting with you?"

"Yes," I said as matter of factly as I could. "He definitely was. Did you notice how he barely--"

"Barely looked at me the entire time I was paying? Yeah, I did. He was into you!"

I laughed, and got into the car. "I guess the joke's on him, probably, as I haven't decided if I even like boys yet," I said. "But I am glad I changed my clothes, because apparently something I have on today is completely working?"

And I still don't know what that thing is, unfortunately. I have not put in much effort today, and that's being kind. :)

Categories trans, passing


I had absolutely no panic attacks, zero issues using the correct bathroom, and oddly enough I didn't particularly want to go home at the end of my day.

I got deadnamed only once. I let it go instantly. I'm not calling anyone out on the name/gender thing for at least a month. Maybe longer, my deadname is somewhat associated with "person who fixes all the things". So it's going to take a while to supplant that one with another, given how quickly and easily it is bandied about.

I used the women's loo a whole three times. The first time was entirely uneventful, and set the tone for calming me down a bit, thankfully. I only ran into someone else face-to-face once, and I was so nervous and shocked, I never even looked up at her face. I let out a strangled half-cry, half-whimper of apology as I pushed past, my hand held to my chest in surprise.

Another time I went in and the larger of the two cubicles was occupied. I had to sit and wait for the other person to leave before I could get my bladder to let go. (I've always had a shy bladder, I guess being in the right bathroom isn't going to resolve that over night.) Otherwise it was not bad.

I don't miss the messes in the men's room. Puddles of urine around the urinal, scraps of paper towel scattered as if by overgrown hamsters. Seriously, some people are downright disgusting (and I'm not singling out the boys here).

The second time I went to use the potty was the best, because I saw one of the young male dude-bro developers from the office down the hall on our floor who I constantly had to contend with for the stall in the men's room. They would go in and sit using their phones for 20-30 minutes at a time when all I needed to do was pee. Seriously. That or simply eye me enough to make me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome, which was almost worse.

Anyway, he came out of their office, obviously heading for the men's room. I studiously avoided all eye contact with him, and as I sat down to pee, I thought, "ha. You don't get to make me uncomfortable about the restrooms any more, guys. Never again."

This day has been pretty epic for me. I don't really want to go to bed.

Categories trans, work