We've put in an application to rent a house I found advertised. It's just a few miles from where we now live.

Assuming that all goes as planned, we may be able to start moving out of here by the middle of next week. That will accomplish a number of things. We can patch, paint and clean and leave the place looking its best for prospective buyers. The decision process regarding what to keep and what to get rid of becomes much easier when you know where you'll be living. And, it will return a sense of normalcy to our lives by taking us out of this mostly-dismantled home environment.

Renting versus owning? I used to have strong thoughts on the matter, but now the rules have changed. My survival instincts have kicked in, and my most urgent goal is to protect us during these uncertain financial times. We're sitting on what used to be an asset, paying way too much for the privilege, and watching its value decline steadily. Without going into details, I can say that this move will save us around $1240 a month compared to the mortgage and horrendous utilities costs here and free us from those major home repair bills that occur with regularity.

Though not by design, we will be living much closer to the office where I volunteer. My wife's drive to work will be shorter, too.

It's a Sears "home-in-a-box" (I had to look it up...) from the early twentieth century, lovingly renovated. One of its most endearing features is a sitting room right off the master bedroom, with its own wood-burning fireplace.

Right now, I'm waiting to hear from the owner, who's three time zones away. I dearly hope no one's application supplanted ours. As of late last night, we had a great rapport - and I moved as quickly as I could to get our information to him.

All I can do is hope for the best and be prepared to go in another direction if this doesn't work out.

I'm joking. I did no work at all. I answered the phone four times in three hours.

Lana was there to let me in before she went to the meeting. I talked to no one else except (briefly) Greg, who shares the office and manages the building. He's always cordial.

Mostly, I played on the internet. I'm a voracious consumer of information, and the web is such an amazing resource. From the trivial to the important - I soak it all up.

After about three hours, Lana returned and we talked for a while. Then, a young intern whom I had not yet met arrived and was introduced to me. She's very friendly, and we hit it off right away.

I've suffered the symptoms of a virus lately, and I started feeling bad. A fever comes and goes, and I get a little tired and short of breath after very little effort. I decided to leave for the day, even though I hadn't yet seen Ann. I sent her a note, explaining why I didn't wait around.

I'm off my weekly routine now, so I don't know when they will need me next. Lana said they're bringing their dogs to the office Friday for a meet-and-greet. That was planned once before but never happened. Ann's dog is incorrigible, apparently. She gave him to a lady who thought she could manage him, but that didn't work out. I'm tempted to go in just to see what I could do to help.

What a remarkable change.

For the first time since 1996, Wednesday doesn't mean "meeting". This week, it means going to the office early to help Ann and Lana. In fact, I'll be running the place for the first four hours while they're out.

I've adjusted nicely to being a consultant to my former company. They've called on me a lot, and I'm making a contribution. But I don't feel stressed, because I'm no longer an owner.

I don't print out reports on Tuesday night. I don't sit there the next morning while a micromanaging partner pores over all the numbers. I don't drive all the way across town to spend two hours doing what could be done in thirty minutes or less. I don't have to write paychecks or make deposits.

It's nice to have this freedom.

That phrase "become a woman" - usually directed at me in the form of a question regarding my long term desire - always rings false.

A television show was on in the background today, and I found my attention drawn to the hostess and two of her friends, in their thirties, who were trying on retro clothing at a boutique. I tend to notice something that other viewers take for granted: how women interact. They were having such fun just being with each other.

When I focus on things like this, I get a wistful feeling - a sense of having missed something. Adult females have a lifetime of close friends who help them develop a sense of identity as they grow from childhood. I suppose that men do, as well, to a degree. But it's not the same. There's not that beautiful openness, and being "manly" seems to involve a great deal of posturing and bravado.

Having been raised male, I know how that game is played. I learned to project an image that, while not overtly "macho", did not invite taunting or threats of any kind. I have never been in a fight or been challenged to one.

I managed to skate through early life without being close to many girls. I didn't date at all. I thought at the time I was just hopelessly inept, but I see now that there was more to it. The worst fate was to be thought "queer", and I managed to avoid that, at least. Had I tried to become a close friend of one of the girls, I would have been so branded. Such were the times in which I struggled through adolescence.

Meanwhile, there were slumber parties and other group activities going on. The mysterious "other sex" was getting together, comparing notes on boys, makeup and every other topic that's important at that age, and - by sharing with one another - learning the myriad skills it takes to survive as a woman in this society.

Now I've chosen to step into that world unarmed - to renounce my upbringing, learn mostly on my own, expect to be taken at face value and risk public humiliation or worse.

Sadly, I never got the chance to "become a woman" before trying to assume the role.

"But, Kay...," you ask. "What about your Free Cell score?"

I'm happy to report that the low numbers I was seeing in the early days of my new computer were not harbingers of things to come.

Repeated (and dedicated) play has brought my overall percentage up to a rather respectable 62. I hasten to add, once again, that I end games on occasions when I'm interrupted or need to do something else. So I'm better than that. I really am.

I think that maintaining a blog like this makes it incumbent upon me not to leave loose ends that generate distress among the readership.

I'm very sorry for the oversight, and I hope we all can get past this and move on.