Head home

Returning to your own apartment is an odd experience. Everything is just as you left it but nothing seems right. The sleek minimalist decor feels cold and empty instead of calm and uncluttered. The stylish modern furniture now seems impractical and uncomfortable. Of course it's not the apartment that's wrong but you. You are literally not the same man that decorated the place. You've changed, perhaps more than you are comfortable admitting even to yourself.

You push the thought aside choosing to focus on practical matters over introspection. If the furniture doesn't suit you'll have to change it. If your old clothes don't fit they can go to goodwill and you'll get a new wardrobe. And if the memory Jared and his blue eyes keeps creeping up on you then... You'll have to figure out how you feel about that too but not right now. Yes, there's no sense in moping when there is business to take care of.

You start by writing to your close friends and family members letting them know that the procedure was a success. You don't give any details about your new body but you reassure them that you are home and recovering well, promising to see them soon.

After that you spend some time looking at clothes online but the variety is so overwhelming you don't even know where to start. Perhaps you'd be better off shopping the old fashioned way?

Hours pass and shadows lengthen while you try and wrap your head around the finer points of female fashion. What exactly is the difference between a chemise and a camisole? Would either look good on you? Do you even want to look "good" or do you want to be comfortable?

As you ponder these burning sartorial questions your train of thought is derailed by a knock at the door.