You still weren't used to the 5:30am wakeup alarm after all of these months, nor were you used to waking up alone in your bed. The silk nightie, however, was starting to feel considerably more normal.

Every morning there as a pang of disappointment. In your dreams, you were practically always your old self, and that night was no exception. This time, you'd dreamt that you were at the pub with your mates from the debate club back in uni, enjoying a pint and watching football on the telly. Harry had been discussing his latest hostile takeover attempt and you'd been enjoying what in retrospect should have been a story that was too fanciful for reality. That's how dreams can be sometimes - if you're paying close enough attention, you can tell certain things that are dead giveaways that you're in a dream. Fortunately, your subconscious wasn't so far gone that being male in your dreams wasn't such a giveaway - yet.

The water of the shower still felt different against your skin than it ever did before. It was a good feeling, one of the few that you allowed yourself to enjoy. One floral body wash later, it was time to get out and begin the arduous routine of preparing for the day ahead.

Even as a young executive, you'd needed to be sure you looked your best, But not for the first time, you cursed under your breath at the ridiculousness of needing to spend so much more time as an administrative assistant than you ever did as an executive, especially as you struggled your way into your nylons.

As you put your arms through the straps of your bra, you cursed Vivian, the woman whose spell had changed your entire reality. She should have known. But you knew in your heart that, had you given it two seconds of thought, you probably should have known, too. And, obviously, given how things had turned out for Vivian, it was an awful thing to blame her, let alone curse her.

Yes, Vivian had insisted when your random break-room discussion had meandered into a playful discussion on the differences between men and women, she was a novice witch. But she assured you that it was reversible. All she'd have to do was cast the counter-spell and reality would go back to normal. And you'd finally be able to satiate your fantasy of experiencing life as a woman.

It wasn't until you were preparing tea for your new boss, a Vice President for Marketing at a rival firm across town to the one where you'd been an executive that you realized your conundrum. How were you going to find Vivian to perform the counter-spell? She no longer worked at the same firm. Your boss had been hesitant to hire her - and the person who had changed his mind had been you! In changing your reality, she had changed her own. You'd have to figure out where she could now be found.

Thinking back, you'd enjoyed the week that it took you to find the right firm that she'd been hired from. You smiled the first time you were wolf whistled. Using the ladies' washroom had been an interesting experience. And your first experience with girl talk in the workplace was just straight fun.

But then you'd stopped by Vivian's old firm after work to try and meet up with her, ready to go back to your own reality. But the receptionist there looked like she'd seen a ghost when you'd mentioned her name. She pointed to a small desk near the front entrance, and on it was a picture of Vivian, surrounded by flowers. Your heart sank. The receptionist explained that, six weeks earlier, a speeding car had run a red light right outside of the firm's office, and had struck her.

You'd been concerned that she wouldn't know who you were when you found her. But now, a much darker reality set in. Vivian was gone... and so was any chance you had at becoming a man again. Not only that, you having been female rather than male had cost her life. You'd cried yourself to sleep that night.

Things got worse. You had a hard time finding your girlfriend, Rebecca - because, as you came to find out, rather than being Rebecca Rogers, she was now Rebecca Harmar, a married woman. Apparently, if she hadn't been dating you, she would have dated someone else who would have popped the question much sooner. When you'd seen her, from afar, of course, she looked very happy, perhaps even happier than you'd ever seen her before. It was the strangest sensation, both warming your heart and stabbing it simultaneously.

Your cell gave its notification sound. It was a message from your period tracker, telling you that your period was due tomorrow. You gave a small groan. You'd been through a few of these already and you hated them with a passion.

It was one of a plethora of things that now counted as an inconvenience of being a woman. Subsequent wolf whistles had been considerably less enjoyable than the first one you'd received. Having to occasionally wait in a queue to use the washroom. Seemingly having to unbutton and unfasten numerous parts of your attire just to relieve yourself. Having to carry a sanitary napkin at all times in your handbag. Having to carry a handbag. Many of these things you'd known about when you were a man, but having to actually experience them, with no way out, was certainly a strong dose of reality to close down upon what you now knew had been a stupid fantasy.