“You’re right!” Denise yelled. Then she came over, took the knife from Judy and slit my sweatshirt down the front, starting at the collar.“Alm...st,” she said as she moved to the sleeves and cut each one from the collar down to the wrist. Now I was standing there in just my bra and panties.“I’m up,” Mary yelled and started kicking soccer balls at me. Mary is nowhere as good as Denise. She only got seven of the balls in the net and none of them hit me on the way in. Four balls, however, hit. I really couldnteven blame my transition for my job loss, it was just me doing what I'vedone my whole life, male or female - take anything good I've got going onat the time, and mess it up.It took me about six months of fruitless looking for a replacement job torealize the truth.I had finally run out of chances.Then the second blow hit, when my mom's health broke down. The stress ofhaving to do an awful job, and be the sole support in our household dueto my failings caught up to her, and she. More

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