Business as usual, somehow?

You stand quietly near Gorgia's desk while he makes several phone calls. You can't help but feel more-than-usually useless, and also somehow guilty as the cold beverage soaking your blouse dries slowly, leaving you practically shivering in the air-conditioned office space.

Gorgia slams the phone down on the receiver and dials another number. "Well, shit. Looks like this is happening to everyone. I can't reach anybody because some stranger picks up, or no one does." He holds the phone with his shoulder, still showing no signs of freaking out over the shift. "Michael? Oh thank fuck, you're still you. What? Oh right. This is Georgia, your boss. Look, you need to come in. Your roommate is what? Look, that doesn't concern me. Well, it sounds like that's not your roommate anymore, so just throw him out and get down here. You're my principal engineer, Michael, and the only person I've been able to reach all morning. That's right. Yes, the web site! For fuck's sake, Michal, just be here in an hour or so help me... Good." He hangs up.

You can't help but feel somewhat comforted that Gorgia is so unfazed. Still the same Gorgia, barking orders at everyone and putting the stability of the business before, well, everything. You actually find yourself admiring his tenacity. It's very impressive. It is surreal to see him in your body, however. For that matter, it's beyond surreal to be in his old body.

From where you're standing, you can see yourself in a tall mirror on the other side of the office. Gorgia's body. The subject of a great many fantasies around the office, not that any one of the men would ever let her know they looked at her like that. She's in her early thirties, you think. About five-foot-six, with a slender, athletic physique and delightful curves in all the right places. Looking at your face, absent of Gorgia's usual stern, displeased expression, you realize it's actually a really pretty face, with soft brown eyes and full lips, currently pouting slightly. The dark hair piled on your head is tightly rolled up and pinned with a weird sort of pin and clamp combo. You find yourself wondering, if you let that hair down, just how long it actually is.

"John! Have you gone deaf?"

Blinking, you realize Gorgia is snapping her fingers at you, a clear sign of her irritation.

"Oh! No, sorry. I'm just freaking out a little bit. This is all—"

"Yes, yes. Well, get over it. No time. We have a product launch in three hours. If any of our investors survived this hellish mixup, I suspect they'll be here soon and you look like an absolute buffoon standing there like that. It's embarrassing. Go put on something clean. And John, I swear, you'd better not do anything weird to my body." His voice took on a very dangerous tone of warning there at the end.

"No, sir!" you respond instinctively before correcting yourself. "Er... ma'am?" Your cheeks warm slightly as a blush creeps into cheeks that probably haven't blushed ever.

Georgia looks at you strangely for a moment and then snaps, pointing to a door in the corner. "Go. Now. And then make yourself useful and take those things out for dry-cleaning. If they're ruined because you're too slow to—"

He cut himself off as you're already hurrying carefully across the room to the door he pointed at, and has turned his attention to his computer, pulling up some news broadcasts and once again picking up the phone. You miss normal shoes. Heels are ridiculous; who ever came up with them anyway?