Transplanted Life
Monday, July 21, 2003
It's ironic that a month ago I would have killed for a job here at BioSoft. It's a cool, twenty-odd person software company with some big contracts doing cool work in database applications that support scientific research. Now, I'm here, but I'm the receptionist. Michelle's job is apparently to wear a headset, direct phone calls, sign when UPS makes a delivery, and look pretty. It's mind-numbingly boring. I've only been here for three hours and I've already dusted off everything in the front area. What people in jobs like this did before the internet, I don't know.

She's got a head start on the "looking pretty" thing, though. I finally got the nerve to take a shower this morning, and I was right about what I drunkenly wrote Friday night - this girl is hot, with a thin waist, nice firm breasts, long legs, a pretty much perfect complection, green eyes and a neat wave in her hair (although the dark roots are showing). The only flaw is a little bit of leg stubble, but after spending half an hour blow-drying her hair this morning, I didn't have the time or the energy to do anything about that. I guess Michelle predicted that, because the outfit she'd laid out for today before doing the switch included black pantyhose. Only one outfit laid out, though - I'm hoping that means Michelle's little joke has an expiration date.

I seriously considered calling in sick this morning - not only did I figure that the "cheat sheet" Michelle had attached to her letter wouldn't be enough help, but I really did feel lousy. Not just "I'm in someone else's body", but queasy, if not quite sick to Michelle's stomach. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she was a vegetarian and the meat-lover's microwave pizza I ate last night was something her body's not used to. But, I kind of suspect that someone who can magically switch bodies would have some way of keeping tabs on me.

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at