Call Me Freaky

I read in today's paper that passport applicants will soon have the option of identifying as neither male nor female but rather as a freak of nature, the result of a lawsuit by a human being that calls itself Mx. Zzyym. My husband, who was clearly male when I met him but now I can't be sure, thinks this is great, claiming there are "many people" like Mx. Zzyym who are neither sex. (It's about 1.7% of the population.)

That must include me, since even though I have female genitalia I don't wear pointy-toed high heels, push-up bras, false eyelashes or dangly earrings like Judge Jeanine and the rest of those ladies on the TV news shows. I have never had a pedicure. (I've had a few manicures but found them soul-crushing.)

I abhor "lunching" with girlfriends and shopping for clothes. I also don't count on "men" to do things that need doing, like painting the living room, taking out the garbage or moving heavy furniture. I reject most popular human pastimes altogether, including riding roller coasters, watching Jeopardy and DWTS, rooting for sports teams and eating Mexican food. (I see no difference between a fajita, a burrito, a taco and an enchilada.) 

So starting today my pronouns will be grouchy/grumpy. My current passport photo reflects this.