My angst is very real these days. Why after so many year’s carrying my secret with me do I feel this need to do something more with my life? Nothing has really changed except that I have been spending more time at home. Keeping busy without a true purpose isn’t all it’s cracked up to be so that doesn’t really help. Yesterday I decided that I was going to keep my obsession under wraps. Just one day I told myself. It was a good day to keep that promise but many times throughout the day my desire to go to the closet and pick out just the right outfit to match my mood was top of mind. I didn’t do it. I was actually proud of myself. When I woke up this morning I thought I’d try that again today. Could I make it for 48 hours without dressing feminine?

No, I could not.

The first thing I did when I rolled out of bed was to dig through my underwire drawer and find the pink bikini brief panties I had been thinking about. I put them on and admired the way they looked above my freshly shaved legs. I still tired to resist and went to the kitchen wearing nothing else and made a cup of coffee. When I returned to my room I put the coffee mug down next to my favorite chair and went to the closet where my tie-die blue slip dress was hung. It was that dress that was on my mind while in the kitchen and I couldn’t think of much else.  Off the hanger and onto my body without any resistance about keeping my promise. So here I am sitting in my favorite chair with a hot mug of coffee, legs crossed and the hem of my dress casually laying across my tanned thighs. Looking down at my legs I realize that my toes need a coat of polish. And so it goes. Another day of dreaming, wishing and hoping. Isn’t there something more productive I should be doing?