I can't believe how late it is.

Today's been so easy that the time went by quickly. Just a series of administrative tasks to complete, with both Ann and Lana in the office to brighten the mood. I feel so wanted and needed here.

Lana was happy to hear that I'm going to the ballet performance next week. She's going to try to bring her boyfriend and her mother. I printed a seating chart so we could see where we'll be sitting. As the day draws closer, of course, I'll be a little nervous. But it's about a safe a set of circumstances as I could want, all things considered. And my wife will be along for moral support.

Ann had to leave to meet someone for lunch, and she ordered a tuna sub to be delivered for me. I don't get paid for working here, but I do score quite a bit of free food.

We might visit a club tonight. It depends upon how my wife feels after being on her feet for seven hours. I'm totally sympathetic and always leave the decision up to her. She gets home about eight-thirty Friday nights, and we leave about ten if we do go out.

I may be in danger of losing the focus of this blog. It's supposed to be a useful guide to anyone trying to get out the door and into public. But I'm afraid it's becoming simply a recitation of the mundane events in a somewhat ordinary life.

Unless I leave this newfound plateau of normalcy, I'll never know how far beyond it I might have gone. The ballet's a first step. It may be a prelude to attending some of the concerts being sponsored by this organization. My only fear in those situations is the very real possibility that I will encounter someone who doesn't know me as Kay. Alone, I could avoid such contact without much difficulty. If my wife is with me, though, people will make the connection.

I'm not particularly driven to push the limits, but I know I must. I need to grow. It's easier not to, of course. And not as scary.

But I've found myself unduly worried about so many things regarding my venture into volunteer work. Not only has nothing bad happened but everything's been so much better than I would have dared to believe was possible.

Nine months. That's how long it's been since I started this journey. And look at the changes I've been through.

A year from now, I suppose, I'll look back at these recent statements and wonder why I was so concerned.

After trying to keep my business from collapsing, I'm back at volunteer work today and tomorrow.

To coin a phrase, "A day as Kay is better than a day as Ray". My name isn't Ray - or anything close to Ray - but I do have a poetic license and I'm not afraid to use it.

Lana offered me free admission to a performance of the ballet "Romeo and Juliet" next Wednesday at a local megachurch. My wife's not working that night, and we are planning to go. It's no big deal in the overall scheme of things, but it's a giant step for Kay into public.

We had a walk-in customer this afternoon - someone who wanted to buy tickets. There's no box office function here. All we can do is take their information and have someone contact them. Most of the time, all that happens on the phone. I was able to provide details, answer questions and have her fill out a form - all without her batting an eye.

I'm so far into this role now that I can't conceive of anything happening here that would be a problem for me.

Now, I need to carry that confidence into the real world.

I was outside just now, and I noticed that it's alive.

My wife brought a pod home from Barbados, and we planted it in the yard. It produced a tree. Since it came from our honeymoon trip, my standing joke has been that if it died the marriage was over.

It's been through many storms, and there were times when it didn't seem quite as strong or look quite as pretty. I haven't fed it nearly as much as I should have, and I'm surprised I haven't killed it yet, but somehow it's kept going in spite of me.

Eighteen years now it's done just fine, and I see no reason to think it won't survive for quite a few more.

Oh, and the tree, too.

Tomorrow, I think, we're going to Mass.

This is the church from which I've been estranged, and I'm going back for a very special reason.

It's the last Sunday there for my dear friend, who's leaving his post as Music Director. He'll be playing one final organ concert after the service. Regardless of my feelings toward the religion, I want to be there.

He's the reason we joined. My wife sang in his choir, and many times he brought me to tears when thoughts of my father, an organist and choir director for 60 years, came rushing back with some bit of music he played.

I'm in awe of his talent, yet he's so down-to-earth and self-effacing. He loves puns and silly humor, as do I.

Of course, he knows me not as Kay but as my alter ego, who must represent me in some situations still. I wonder sometimes how close friends such as he would react to learning my secret. It's hard to predict which ones would fall away.

I suspect he'd be conflicted. He's very religious and holds some views that are at odds with what I know to be true. He believes, for example, that homosexuality can be cured. So I imagine he would counsel me to seek therapy to rid myself of this silly gender confusion.

It's hard to imagine that someone with whom I am so friendly could shun me because of this, but that's the ugly truth about the way we have to live.

All bets are off. Back to square one. There are no guarantees.

All we can do is be who we are, endure the pain as it comes and draw strength from the fact that only we see inside ourselves and know the truth.

There's a woman whose business handles all the printing for the office. She's been here to meet with Ann and Lana, and they all sat about ten feet from me. So she knows who I am.

Today, she called from the parking lot in front of the building. I answered the phone. We've had a lot of rain, and she wanted to make sure someone was in the office. And she needed help bringing in some boxes.

Lana was on the phone, so I went out.

When she saw me, she said, "Oh, Sweetie...this is too much for you. Let me see if there's a man around."

I "struggled" with the heavier box and "managed" to carry it into the office.

But, my goodness...I nearly got the vapors!

I'm such a delicate flower.