And such, it would seem, is the case for me. For years, I have benefitted by my wife's work schedule. At first she often worked until 10:00 at night. When that was cut back to 8:00, I still had plenty of time alone in which to indulge my feminine pursuits when I had the desire to do so, which was quite often. She also has worked on Saturdays for such a long time, I really don't remember ever not having them to myself.

I'd use Satudays to my full advantage, since I had the whole day. It was on Saturdays that I'd dress fully, do my makeup to the fullest, and take pictures of myself in my latest aquisitions. Saturdays have been my femme days, and I've coveted them. But this is now all going to change. I'd thought for years about what it was going to be like when we both retired, and my wife and I would be home together most of the time. I'd wondered what would become of my crossdressing, and whether not being able to dress would begin to wear upon me. Well, I'm going to find out sooner than I'd expected.

My wife's employer has been on this big push to get their employees to work from home. And come late November, my wife will begin working full time from our home. She will be here every day, all day, and will likely not be away from the house except for when she has a day off, and decides go get out and do something. My opportunities to dress will be minimal, and will likely dry up to nearly nothing. My vast wardrobe will just sit there, unused, and I'll be longing for any chance to slip into a pretty dress, even if for a very short time, should the occasion present itself.

The ability to do this has been an ever-present part of me for many years now. I honestly don't know how I'm going to handle it. I've said for a very long time that crossdressing is a very selfish habit, and this change in my circumstances magnifies that opinion. On the one hand, I very much want my wife to be happier in her work situation. Her job as a customer service representative for a major health care network is gruelling and often thankless. I'd last about a week, if that, doing her job. Her ability to work from home will allow her to save wear and tear on her car, save hundreds of dollars a year on gasoline and car repairs, keep her from worrying about icy roads in the Winter and any inclement weather at other times, and eat her dinner at a reasonable hour as well. There are a lot of positives for her in all of this. I care about her mental well-being, and I see what her job does to her.

There are also many negatives. Her employer is taking advantage of their employees in a most egregious way, in my opinion. They demand a workspace in the home, but they do not pay for it. They make the employee buy a desk, and they don't pay for it. They're going to use my internet, and they won't be paying for that either. It is a company sponsored intrusion into the home with no added benefit to the people who live there, save the added convenience to the employee. And it's all so they, the company, can save money now spent on a workspace for their own employees.

But worst of all for me, the selfish crossdresser, who likes to "do it up to the nines" when I dress, I will quite simply not be able to enjoy this most integral and intimate part of my life all that often, if at all, any more. Please spare me the "you should have worked this out with her years ago" responses. One can talk with one's wife until one is blue in the face about issues like crossdressing, and still not get her to change her opinions regarding the issue. While she is tolerant of such behavior in others, understanding transgenderism to some degree, she doesn't want to deal with it in her own husband. I never disclosed it to her prior to our marriage, and she has her rights when it comes to what she wants in a husband. She doesn't want a woman. I understand that.

So I'm grumpily unhappy about what the near future has in store for me. No more femme time. No more dresses, no more high heels. No long, pretty hair, no lipstick. No nylons or lacy slips. It will be like quitting a drug after years of pleasant addiction. And the desire to dress will likely never go away. And it will sometimes gnaw at me like a junkyard dog with a new bone full of meat.

I have another month, maybe five weeks, at the most. Then it all goes away, maybe for good.