Hiding(?) In Plain Sight

Today was a good day, for several reasons.

In addition to being a Friday, I was finally over the after-effects of a somewhat unpleasant migraine that bothered me off and on from Sunday night through Wednesday.

I've had them in the past, and each time it was an indication that I needed to get my eyes checked. This is no different. I have an appointment in about two weeks - and yes, I'm asking about Lasik. :c)

(I updated the profile pic on "his" Facebook profile a few days ago.

(I received several joshing comments about how long my hair is getting :-p... along with several expressing surprise I wasn't wearing my glasses.

(I replied that I had simply forgotten I didn't have them on - which was the truth - and that I was looking into Lasik.

(One long-time friend replied, "YOU are considering Lasik?!? I don't believe it!!! Any other surprises to share with your public?"

(My reply? "You have no idea." lol)

But I digress. I feel better, albeit tired, after three nights of migraine-induced wooziness.

And I received yet another reminder that I may be further ahead in my transition than I realized. :c)



My friend and co-worker S and I were finally in the same office today, for the first time in nearly two weeks. She has been working in the main office, which is about 30 minutes from where I am currently serving my time. (So to speak. :c))

As we usually do, we headed downstairs so S could pick up her breakfast, followed by a chat. I actually had some work-related items to share with S, but as soon as we sat down she spoke.

"Sorry to be pushy," she said, "But I've been dying to tell you this story since Wednesday. You're going to love it. It's about D."

D is our favorite co-worker, and is quite possibly the nicest person I have ever met. He is brilliant, hard-working, and has had my back from the moment I started, well-aware of the mess I inherited. So whenever he needs my help, I go out of my way to provide it as best I can.

He had written to me early Wednesday morning at home, asking for help tracking down a document he needed for a big client.

Although I had already called in to my manager L (who had warned me NOT to look at my messages), I made an exception for D.

I pulled out my work laptop at 5:30 to see if I could track down what he wanted. I had sent it to him recently in reply to another query, so I told him as much.

And this is where S comes in.

D came over shortly after she got in on Wednesday.

"He apologized, because he felt bad bothering you at home. Then he felt even worse when I told him you had a migraine. I told him I'm sure you answered because you wanted to, not because you had to.

"He told me you had sent him the file he needed previously, but he thinks he accidentally deleted it at some point.

"He said you mentioned we could get it for him if he needed it, so that's what he was asking me. So I sent him a PDF of it."

I thanked her, but was puzzled.

"I think I missed something here... what was so funny?"

S grinned.

"He referred to you as 'she.' Several times, in fact."

I was dumbfounded.

"Really? How?"

She laughed.

"He said, 'I sent <boy name> email, and she wrote back that you might be able to help if I can't find it."

"It took me by surprise, so I said, 'I'm sorry, D, say that again?'"

"And he repeated himself."

"Wow," I said.

"Yup. The first time he clearly had no idea he had done it. But the second time he caught it and corrected himself."

"So," I said. "What did you make of it, S?"

"Well, D is incredibly smart... but he is probably the LAST person in the office I think would be aware of what transitioning even means, let alone figure out that you're in the middle of it."

"I think it was subconscious on his part. But he clearly has picked up something. I'll bet he isn't the only one either."

I had to agree, but told her I was surprised, because I have been working to hold on to "him" as best I can in the office.

"Yeah...." S said, "I'm not sure how well that's working out now, to be honest."

I had to laugh.

"Is it becoming obvious?"

S thought for a moment.

"I think we're past "becoming" and into "became." And have been for a while, actually."

"Oh," I replied. "So... I guess I'm not doing a great job pretending to be him now?"

"I think you're really comfortable with yourself now," she said. "And that's what people notice. Even if they don't realize they notice it."

I guess the boy is drifting off a bit quicker than I realized!

***

And on that note, a great old classic, courtesy of Dobie Gray: