Or Maybe Not

Last week, I went for an interview at the place that I thought had hired me.  They told me to come back Monday morning for a second interview.  I went there prepared to interview, along with another candidate.  Instead of an interview, I found myself (and the other fellow) filling out a slough of new-hire paperwork.  WTF?  I've been out of work since December, so I didn't let it faze me.  After a brief run-through of the documents, they told me to come back Tuesday and begin training.

Tuesday morning I went in prepared to train, only to be told that they weren't quite ready, and "Could I please come back at 1700?".  I went back to my sister's store and chilled out for a few hours.  I went back to the job site in the afternoon, only to be told that I can't begin my training until my background check comes back.  One of the trainers made me a milkshake, so it wasn't a totally wasted trip.  They told me to come back on the morrow, at the same time.

Wednesday I trundled out there only to discover that I still couldn't train, because the background check hadn't come back.  Worse still, no background check was submitted because that form was missing from my new-hire packet.  I filled out the missing form, and now I'm waiting.  My background is clean, so I'm not worried about anything, but it's frustrating to have been so close to work again, only to be forced to wait.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate waiting?

Back to the Old Grind

I finally found a job.  If I had known how easy getting this one would be, I would have applied ages ago.  Mind you, it isn't what I envisioned for myself when I ended up out of work, but hey, a job is a job.

Their application says that the company does not discriminate against all of the usual things (race, nationality, religion, etc.) with regard to their hiring.  In addition, they do not discriminate against "sexual preference and sexual identity".  That doesn't help me right this minute, but if I continue to work for them, it may come in handy down the road.

This company also has rather strict guidelines about how employees are supposed to communicate about the business and their practices, and I plan to comply, so for the time being, I don't think I will even reveal where I'm working.

Why?

Why is it that big, seemingly momentous events always take place after my therapy sessions?  I suppose that it must be so that I don't do anything rash.  I have twelve days to think on things before I go back to see Cassandra.  The truth is that I don't deal very well with the here-and-now.  Decisions made in the heat of the moment always seem to backfire, and I'm not in a very good spot to deal with that sort of thing.  Rash actions always have unforseen repercussions, and I do not need anything more unforseen or worse, undesired.  Anyway, before I go back, I'm supposed to write something about my dreams for the future.  Ha!  I don't know that I do that anymore.

I used to have what I thought were visions.  I thought I could actually see some events in the future.  The problem was, it was only ever the most mundane of occurrences, and I only experienced the feeling of "deja vu" after the fact.  When I was in the seventh grade, I walked up the my history teacher's desk and caught a coffee cup that was teetering on the edge.  Boing!  There was that feeling, that twinge of otherness.  It didn't come again until I was twenty-one.  Riding up the escalator from the NY subway into the daylight of Manhattan.  Boing!  I can't say that I have felt that sort of cognitive dissonance at any time since.  What's the use of precognition if all one can see is humdrum everyday stuff?

The Depths of Despair

I can deal with unemployment, such as that is.  Getting the internet in drips and drabs is also proving survivable.  Six days ago, my Xbox 360 went on the fritz, and that, ladies and gentles, may be the death of me.

I'm still taking my meds (I got back onto Abilify, and it's done wonders).  I've got my therapy with Cassandra every two weeks, and through the auspices of a co-op with the Bond Clinic, I've had a physical and some blood work done.  My general health has been a little surprising.  My weight is down to about 204, and my height is 5'11.5" (I shrunk an inch and a quarter!).  Blood tests reveal that I have normal blood pressure, am not diabetic, and am HIV-negative.  My body mass index is a tetch high, and don't get me started on the Body Surface Index.  BMI makes a certain kind of sense, but who thought it was a good idea to tell folks how many square meters one's skin will cover?

When I'm not looking for work, books and videos fill my time.  I've always read a lot, but I am finishing books at a rate which is prodigious.  The local library has a respectable DVD collection, and I've been catching up on movies from the last five or six years.

Yes, I Am Alive

I really didn't mean to go another month without posting, but life has a way of interfering with plans.  The cable's off at home, so I've been getting by on public terminals (That's a Mass Effect 2 reference, if anyone cares).  My job search continues, so far without any positive results, but I am still hopeful.

My therapy was on hold for a few weeks because Cassandra was traveling, but we had a good session yesterday, and we're back on schedule for the next couple of months.  Remember that "chuffed" feeling I had a while ago?  When I arrived yesterday, the receptionist let her know by saying, "Jaye is here for her appointment".  It's nice to be known as myself.

That Was the Year I Knew the Panic Was Over

With apologies to Ellie Goulding.

2012 was a year in which I learned, yet again, that anything could happen.  I lost my Dad in April.  I lost my job in December.  Sometime in the middle I learned to overcome my fear of the future.  It's not that I'm no longer afraid. It's just that that fear is overwhelmed by my terror of what will become of me if I keep putting things off.

Affirmation

Last Saturday, I was invited to a party held by my friends Troy and River.  They called it the "Post-Mayan Apocalypse Zombie Solstice Party".  What a name, eh?  I attended the party they held last year in my male guise.  As I have been trying to get out more in my femme persona, that's how I went this time around.

I wore a "Christmas" sweater which has languished in my closet since last year.  It's teal and it glitters.  I wore the sweater over a pair of purple skinny jeans, with my grey boots.  I've got one decent picture of myself from that night:

I did my nails specially for the night: one coat of Spoiled "I Don't Drink Cheap Wine" (sort of magenta) and a second coat of Spoiled "Ants in My Pants" (clear red with glitter).  I was pleased with the effect.

Where they live is not far off one of the major bus routes, so I knew I could get there using public transportation.  Halfway to my transfer point, the bus broke down.  A nice gentleman from Star Metro came out and picked me up along with another passenger in a van, and promised to deliver us to our destinations.  Through the whole experience, the transit guy spoke of me as "that woman, her and she" and addressed me as "Ma'am".  Not all of my encounters with government employees have been so polite, or so positive.  Can
I borrow a phrase from my British friends and say that I was chuffed, or is that too masculine?

The party was great.  Troy and River have lots of friends, and there was a lot of food and drink, and a bonfire and...  Yeah, it was great. I had a wonderful conversation with a woman there whose child is Ftm.  I got a few compliments on my outfit.  The food was incredible.  A good time was had by all.

Yesterday was my third therapy session.  By mutual agreement with her, I attended en femme.  It was COLD yesterday, so I dressed simply in a blue sweater, skinny jeans (not the purple ones) and my boots.  At the start of our session, she told me that I seemed the most like myself of all the times I had come to see her.  Our discussion was wide-ranging, covering many topics, and not just those related to being trans.  I did speak a bit about that, though.  We talked about music, and dancing.  She gave me a "homework" assignment: I am to dance for at least fifteen minutes every day.  Would that all of my past homework assignments were so easy.