Up until a few hours ago, I was an unemployed salary-man, one who has spent every day for the past few months searching for a job. It was then, as I was walking through a dumpy park, that I met a woman who eagerly listened to my woes. She pitied me and promised that I would have a nice, easy-going job in the next few minutes, and she delivered. I have a cushy job where I redirect phone calls, do some simple spreadsheets, and basic filing, in exchange for a fat paycheck. It’s been about a week, and while I’m still not used to being called Sarah, wearing glasses, heels, a skirt, and simply having a woman’s body, I think I’m starting to like it.