Well, last night, Samantha's mother found a letter at her work that said the health department had done an inspection of the doctor's office she cleans, and said the bathrooms are below par.

There can be no doubt about it, I live with a vicious killer.

I dreamt of a man last night.

It wasnt a sexual dream, but he was standing in front of me, and I found myself realizing he had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

Stopped at a McDonalds for a coffee on my way home this morning, and the woman at the till greeted me with "Good morning, beautiful."

Can you guess how happy that made me?

ts my weekend, and boy, am I glad. Two days off, yay!

Yesterday, I had a total brain fart day. First, when I got to work, I realized I had forgotten to bring my shoes. This is a big deal, because we aren't supposed to be on the floor without steel toes.

Theoretically, they could have sent me home, but its Christmas rush, and they need every warm body they can get, so I was told to be extra careful, but to keep on going.

Then, at lunch, I discovered I had also forgotten to pack my pills, so that was a pain as well, and obviously a sign I had let all the stuff going on get me off focus.

Well, I just got back from the Transgender Day of Remembrance, and it was very moving. So moving, in fact, that between the emotions it brought up, the stress of losing my best friend, the stress of my daughter's allergy attack on Friday, the stress of her mother's health problems, the stress of my job ....

I'm a little over-stressed, I think.

Kylie, my oldest and best friend and the reason you're able to read this, may be gone from my life, and no idea if she'll be back. It hurts as much as you can imagine, but I haven't been able to grieve - I had a busy shift at work, then had my first session with the weight loss group, and then got about 4 hours of sleep before I got a call from Samantha's mother saying she had taken Sam to the doctor for a severe allergy attack.

At some point, I'll stop and grieve and let the hurt out, but for now its .... bottled up.

I'm not sure this is a good thing or not.

I am in a spiritual crisis. I'm calling on my fellow Christians here for help. Please PM me, and I'll go into details.

Not every fallen soldier meets his end on the battlefield. Many come home, bringing wounds too deep to heal with them that eventually take their life.

Not my best night last night. First, I was talking with the other person who has had SRS, and while she didnt want to discourage me, she pointed out that most of the girls who have the surgery have higher incomes and jobs that dont take as much physical strength.

While I was still struggling with that, I made some mistakes in putting stuff out and it frustrated both me and my supervisor, which isnt what I want to do considering I'm counting on a reference from her when I go to transfer to a closer store.

A while back, I wrote an entry that went something like this - "I've read a lot of stories here about a boy who becomes a girl, and when he sees the new person he's become, he's amazed (or even aroused) about how good he looks. Well, I dont live in one of those stories"

Apparently, I spoke too soon.

I was getting dressed this morning, and I had put on a cami as another layer in the cold weather, and happened to glance at my reflection.

Then I looked down at my chest, and back at the girl in the mirror, and actually swore.

I'm ... beautiful.

I just got back from taking Samantha's mom home, and had to talk about this amazing moment.

Last night, I was in the back when the old song "You sexy thing" came on the radio, and for a moment, I was filled with confidence. I was able to say to myself, "I'm female, I'm fantastic, and yes, I am actually sexy."

I just .... strutted for most of the rest of the shift, and wow, does that feel good ....

Got a great compliment last night. I was able to arrive a little early, and there was a new staffer from the evening shift having a late break in the back room. We got to talking, and I mentioned that I have a daughter, and her next question was, "And your husband?"

Obviously, she assumed I was a genetic girl, who had mothered my child.

Felt very, very nice.

Pretty cool, no?

I posted a little something on Facebook, and I quote it here:

To my fellow Christians:

Well, I've had a busy day off. I went and did my month-end banking, got my daughter a bus pass for November, booked my car in for service tomorrow, started work on a new story and was contacted by the weight loss clinic and set up an appointment.

I was really happy about the last, because it means I can get started on a weight loss regimen right away, and I told them about the transition, and they seemed pretty cool with it, so that's good.

Another tiny step forward, I think.

My daughter noticed my breasts yesterday, calling them "grapefruit". On the other hand, she's still playing and giggling with me, so that's good.