It's hard to believe just a bit over two months has passed since I wound up here. I'm so used to it now, it's almost all routine. Waking up in Joy's old bed, surrounded by her belongings* and seeing her beautiful** face in the mirror... brushing her shoulder-length blonde hair before bed and after waking up, applying make-up if I so desire... dressing in her clothes, often two or three changes per day depending on what I'm planning on doing... it's all so normal that at times it's a little easy to forget my life was ever different, which is freaky but also kind of re-assuring. I'd hate to be some baby who moped his way through the next year, you know? I've been given a gift with this insane experience, why waste time rejecting it? Since day one I've seen the potential to make chickenshit into chicken salad here.
*Including a plethora of motivational wall-hangings, framed photos of her with her friends from when she was a young girl or a teen, and stuffed animals from her childhood. Honestly, they say men have a hard time growing up but this woman owns like 300 teddy bears?
**She is very beautiful despite my little blip in confidence last month, with big blue eyes and perfect teeth. I just feel like I'm surrounded by too many girls who are somehow hotter.
I mean, so what if the clothes I wear are frilly, and dainty? Skin-tight or flowy? Flower-print, attention-getting, bright colors? None of these were my speed before, that's for sure, but I didn't have the body to go underneath it. I would have looked like a damn fool in my normal body wearing Joy's clothes, but as her? It looks so normal that it starts to feel normal. And feeling normal is how I keep my confidence up.
Hell, forget normal. I look good, baby.
I feel like I'm ready for the world. I've primed myself on the basics of real estate law in California, and how to conduct these transactions. I've cobbled together a resume that combines my skills as an employee with Joy's educational background, and sent it out into the world. And now... we wait.
I need money. I don't spend a lot but my savings are dwindling. I don't want to take a service job just to keep myself afloat, but if I need to go into a low-level sales position somewhere, I bet I could make it work. But the lure of huge real estate commissions calls to me. Besides, this is a face that deserves to be on billboards.
I think I've turned a corner with Treena. Now that we've aired some of our grievances with each other, I feel like we can communicate better. She still thinks I have a "limited idea of what it means to be female" but so what? It's not like I judge her for not being fashion-conscious and feminine all the time. But none of the women in my life were ever like her; I suspect none of the women in my future line of work are more like this, the way I am choosing to present myself. I want to fit in and I want to be a woman the way I choose to. Isn't that what all the feminist 101 crap is all about? My body, my choice? I choose to embrace hotness.
But speaking of my body...
The gentleman who inherited my body, let's call him Smitty, is doing well. He managed to close the TexWest deal under my watchful eye - really just signing his name to my work, but he did get it into the endzone when I left it for him on the ten yard line. He gives me a too-small cut of what he makes at my job. He keeps me updated on my accounts, and seems to be tending to them well. I guess my life is in good hands.
Which is probably scary, right? Oh boy, if this guy does so well with my life, what's to stop him from stealing it and forcing me to stay in Joy's body? I've read this blog enough to know that is a possibility. It certainly kept me up at night for a while. After all, I was a decent-looking, young-enough guy with a good job. If we're giving monetary values to a person's life, mine would fetch a pretty penny.
He seems trustworthy. Now, I didn't get this far in life by counting my chickens before they hatch, but he told me that he's a family man who was travelling for business of his own, and was torn away from his wife and kids. A fine cover story, but then I verified his references as best I could.
Is he going to abandon his life just to make a few bucks in mine? That would be cold, bro. I think he won't. He's got a lot to lose, too. So while I may not be on totally solid ground - how many of of us are? - I can sleep at night, a bit. As long as we work together to get ourselves back where we belong. Then when I'm Simon again, I can move out to the coast and pick up where I'll be leaving off... after all, all this sunshine is positively addicting. And when I get back on the right side of the biological equation, I bet I could do real good with these bikini-clad honeys...
Speaking of this life and that, Treena has continued to search for Joy's whereabouts, to little effect. She's got a theory that the poor girl got the date wrong and showed up at the Inn too late to get her own body back. Honestly, anything is possible, sure, but then how come we never heard from her? In the digital age, having someone just drop off the face of the Earth is spooky.
In the meantime, I'm keeping myself amused. Girls' nights out with Shayla, Courtnee and Milena happen weekly. Joey is always good for a laugh - whenever I'm having a tough day I text him just to tease the possibility that I might be interested and it never fails to cheer me up. Even Treena and I have made a few outings, but she much prefers a quiet night in, so if I want to spend time on the couch watching Netflix or DVDs from her collection (she loves foreign films and old films and old foreign films... yawn...) I've got her.
I just make sure to keep her at a distance... in case what Shayla was saying turns out to be true, I don't want to lead her on.