Well, 2018 is almost over.

Good riddance to it, I say. It had a good point or two. At the beginning of the year I had an encounter with a man that took me from bi-curious to full on bi (maybe even leaning slightly more toward men than women), a young couple just this past Friday showed me that people aren't as selfish as I thought (they had their own stuff going on, an infant daughter that probably wasn't even a week out of the womb so they were probably in a hurry to get home, and they went out of their way for nearly half an hour to help me), but other than that it's been a crappy year.

I lost the highest paying job I ever had. I hated it, but I loved the pay. Now I have a job I love, but it isn't a penny over minimum wage and even the assistant manager is part time so I'm not even getting 20 hours a week. The job helped me get over my fear of people since I have to run the register, but I earn so little a week that I might as well just call it a hobby.

My mother, who started charging me rent on my place after my brother outed me (she's the legal owner so it's within her rights legally speaking), agreed to waive the rent after I lost my job on the condition that I got rid of my women's clothes, wigs, prostheses, makeup, etc. I was able to get around that by taking advantage of the fact that she thought I only had one wig, a lot of my clothes were too big for me by then, and my ex left some makeup here to dispose of them in front of her while still keeping my wig collection, clothes that fit, and makeup, but it's a moral defeat and I'm back in the closet with my family.

I'm wheelchair bound when I'm out and about and carrying some guilt over it because a lot of the time it's precautionary. I just put up a post about it so I won't go into detail here, but it bothers me that I'm losing my ability to walk when I need it and it's making me feel guilty using it when I don't need it, especially when I see someone in a wheelchair that will probably be in it until they go to bed.

I found out I'm not sterile, which is a mixed blessing. If I would have been I would have started talking to doctors about starting hormones. At the same time, it's yet another delay since I'm starting to get too old to become a first time parent but not so old that I'm ready to do away with that possibility altogether.

And I haven't been gendered correctly a single time this year. I was treated as a lady at the adult arcade where I went from bi-curious to bi, men have to pay a $5 "membership fee" so they can claim private club status on top of a $10 entry fee and they only charged me the "membership fee," just as they do cisgendered women, but other than that everyone has called me "sir" without fail.

So I'm not going to miss 2018 at all. In fact, if it comes back I'll kill it and not even try to hide my crime. In the immortal words of Col. Sherman T Potter, here's to the new year. May she be a damn sight better than the old one.