Obviously, my first thought was that I needed to capture the changes in my sex drive. The second thought, being a project manager, was that the solution probably involved spreadsheets.
Bonus free tip. If you own a penis, and you're wearing it under a short skirt, and you own a feisty cat, wear underpants. That Is All.
The second most horrific living nightmare is smelling of BO, specifically me believing other people thinking I smell of BO. It haunts me.
Gender identity is just some dumb, made-up shit that no-one really cares about in 2018. Gender identity is the new horoscopes.
I got into makeup because I had dark circles like of crop circles. When light waves passed close by, they were warped like the light waves seen near black holes. My dark circles were so dark they bent the fabric of the universe.
I took the SAGE test and it told me I was in a minority as a bisexual androgynous male to female crossdresser. Ten minutes earlier I was just that guy you talk to in the office canteen; now I was Grayson Perry.
Clearly I’m giving out the right signs because a moment later Emily leans in close. “You’ve not tried to kiss me yet,” she purrs. “Are you gay?” I go home alone.