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Work continues to be a challenge, with too many people working too hard and a customer that individually only tangentially understands what we are doing on their behalf. The team hangs together and leans on each other quite well now, with some cracks occasionally showing; nothing major. It's easy to start to think of these folks as my friends. We're friendly and we care about each other.

Today something happened that made me "wake up" and think about how close I can really be with work at all. Somehow somebody brought up the case of a guy he had worked with years ago who got caught wearing one of his wife's dresses. You'd think he had murdered in cold blood, the disbelief and universal disgust that came over the group. Granted this is the "programmed" reaction that society so thoughtlessly imposes on almost everyone. And it was all in good fun to laugh at someone who wasn't there.

"Some men just have an... urge," said one guy in mock seriousness. Then laughter erupted in the room. I had been buried in a detailed task and had not been a part of the conversation for quite some time, so I just kept to what I was doing and ignored it all. But it made me feel vulnerable, frightened to ever be "found out."

The funny thing is that the afternoon before, Nikita had asked me to please wear heels because she liked what they did for my legs. She said I had nicer legs than many women and that heels suited me. She said I was hot, and I don't think she was just saying that.

So I know who my real friends are, and I know who wants me for me. The interesting thing is that this brings my job into clear focus, trims it to it's rightful place in my life. It's not my life, it's one component in the tapestry. The people I know there are nice folks, but they are not my friends.