As I write this, it's the wee hours, although the schedule option will pop it back to Friday night. I wasn't home late from Chams, although the Ever Lovely Mrs J, who was up reading, wanted to be fast asleep before I turned in.
I could have given the time, rather than 'the wee hours', but there's those odd English phrases. The small hours, still of the night, witching hour, etc. All very colourful and, like much about being British, suitably vague and nonspecific! :-)
So, not late back and not early there either. Hmm..... As I got changed back into my bloke clothes back at Chams, I thought back to the night that had been. Much laughter, stories shared, chocolates snaffled, new people greeted and personal journeys shared.
|Cheer up, you old mare|
So why the sense of loss? Honestly, I don't know. I have a long weekend to look forward to and I felt fine as I got ready. Despite much fine food on the recent Jones Family holiday, I've gained 5lbs but lost two of those this week. This meant I could still get into an old red skirt and my pink top was the right side of fitted. All of which is a step in the right direction and again, reasons to be cheerful.
Perhaps there's a feeling that it was all too brief? Piling on the slap and tightening the corsetry around 8ish, and 'turning back' around 11.15.
Yeah, it's weird being trans. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's all fine.... except when it isn't. :-)
Maybe Val was on the money with her comment about for me, it's a short span of time when I'm in Lynn attire. Thinking on that, 8 to 11ish, that's what? Three hours? I'm not always ready by 8 either, due to traffic and leaving home. Still, better than snatching an hour every other month, like I did back in the 2000s.
Still. Chin up. Face the sun and enjoy the fresh air of springtime in the woods. Onwards.... Oh, happy Easter BTW.