Pedalling and Sleeping

Today I took a bike ride I haven't taken in quite a while. It was unplanned: I'd orginally intended to cycle onto the Rockaway Peninsula and along the ocean to Coney Island. But somehow I managed to make a couple of "wrong" turn. So I went through some neighborhoods people rarely see unless they live in them. The houses were all very attractive, spacious and well-kept; so were the parks. From there, I pedalled into a few towns and villages in Nassau County, and followed a couple of roads up to the North Shore, where some of those waterfront houses would've made Gatsby blush.

The weather was warmer than we've had for the past couple of weeks but cooled off quickly. By the end of the ride, I was wearing the jacket I'd brought with me.

I recall doing this same ride--or one very similar to it--in the days after Tammy and I split up and I moved onto the block where I now live. I was not "out" to anyone except for Jay, who was then an intake counselor for the LGBT Community Center's mental health services. I was only beginning to meet members of the communities of which I now consider myself a member.

I shed a few tears for those days. Sometimes it's even worse to remember loneliness and isolation than it is to actually experience them.

And now a ride that I once would've done without blinking, much less stopping, has me sleepy. It's a good thing Dominick and I didn't go out, as we'd planned. Being a professor, I'm supposed to put him to sleep, not fall asleep on him.

Time for this girl--actually, a female recognized by New York City and State but classified as male until 7 July of this year--to go to bed. Tomorrow I will wake up as Justine; in less than three months, I will wake up as female in the eyes of the Federal governmment as well as the city and state in which I live.

So, do I need to sleep for two? Or are two cheaper than one?

Let me sleep on that.