Nah, time to go.

No, time to get moving. You hop out of bed, take a quick shower, do your hair and makeup, and head into her room to borrow an outfit. “I can’t believe I’m blonde. So weird.” It all comes together quickly, which seems a little odd, but you are soon wearing white sneakers, no show pink socks, a pink soft cotton thong, a matching bikini top, white blouse, and a light blue denim skirt. On the way out you grab a small messenger style purse and toss in everything you think you will need.

Finding the address where your stuff is takes no time at all. The only person there is a rather clueless seeming woman in her early twenties. You try to explain her mistake, and try to get the photographer on the phone, but you can’t quite place his name. She insists his name was Brad, which you know is wrong, and keeps trying to give you someone else’s stuff, but all arguments that your license is just with the wrong stuff falls on deaf or uncaring ears. You eventually give up and walk out of there several hours later license in hand, as well as a box of someone else’s stuff.

Back in your car you look it over. Black ripped jeans that are more rips than jeans, blue boy short panties, 1 turquoise and 1 orange socks, white shoes with a logo, “Hey Dudes” a crop top black band T, the Ramones, and a zip up very dark blue hoodie. You find a cherry flavored vape pen in the right pocket, and about $2 in change in the left. Then of course, last item is a small black wallet that was crammed in with the change. Inside is a pair of condoms, three credit cards with your name you’ve never seen before, $18 in cash, and your drivers license. But it seems wrong. It indeed says you are 5’6”, 120 lbs, and female. “What the fuck?” Is all you can say as you stare at it. “Someone is just fucking with me. Right? It couldn’t have always been this way? I would have noticed.” You look at the picture of the younger you on the card. You are smiling, seem genuinely happy, and are sporting a wild mop of blonde hair with pink highlights. “No way I’ve ever looked like that.”

“This is just crazy. But what do I do?” Your tummy grumbles. It requests food. Sushi suddenly sounds good. Or maybe just a salad.