Our beloved brown-gold VW Caravell van sold quickly. Actually the day after it was published. Relief. Some money at the bank. One car will do for now.
Zero concentration. Equally zero office work yield. Had my burnout torpedoed my business?
Simple tasks such as courtesy mails seem overwhelming, unaffordable. Walking circles. Something is wrong. Very wrong. No wait indeed. All is wrong.
That much of delayed billing to be done, even more explanations for the long silence to forward. Will my customers come back?
Better take a nap. I'll do it tomorrow. Or in a few days. Maybe never. Suddenly Im cold. Sleepy. Useless.
Bright light. My Spouse just rolled the shades. Sits on my sofa, right to the shivering me.
Her voice is calm and soft. Yes. She knew from the start. She accepted to marry a special man. Namely me.
Happy to have both a husband and a girlfriend. The husband is back. However the girlfriend is unaccounted for. And sure, she misses her.
All miss her. Our entire family depends on her.
Nothing will be complete, nothing will move unless all crew is onboard. Time to be brave.
Time to drop sweatshirts and trainings. Time for grooming, enough of breasts hanging loose.
Guides my hand to my chest. Shock and awe. They're still there. My girls. My once joy and pride. So difficult to hide, so wonderful to explore.
Coconut fragranced shower gel all over my body. It's so breathtaking realistic, so smooth. Fluffy bathrobe.
How many razors it took ? Who cares after all. I feel light. Walking on a cloud, sitting on even more clouds.
She might have roughed my in the process pressing the blades with too much optimism against the skin in her will to eradicate the hairy signs of maleness.
Back to Sissy. By all definitions I tried hard. There's no escape. I'll never be one of those real men. No matter what.
I'm a Sissy. Resistance is futile. Should have known it better.
Even if my collapsing under the load brain tried to fool me otherwise, I am a Sissy.
Continues here
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