It's been such a strange morning for you so far. You were jolted awake by your alarm clock, to start with, which is pretty unusual these days unless you had an especially late night. You're sure you went to bed at the normal time, but as you fumble bleary-eyed for the snooze button, you feel like you've been shorted hours of necessary rest. But the clock says 6:30am. That's normal, right?
You shuffle robotically through your morning routine, showering and dressing and coming out for breakfast. All you can manage is an annoyed grunt when one of your roommates expresses surprise that you were able to get yourself up and ready on your own this morning. Of course you did, you're a grown adult, aren't you? And what business is it of theirs anyway?
You've barely finished your cereal when you hear a car honking outside. Crap! Your carpool is here already? It's like you've lost all sense of time. You gather up your stuff and head to the door when you realize something's off. You're not dressed for work at all. Without realizing it, at some point you put on cargo shorts, a printed tee, and your favorite sneakers. Fine for a weekend off, but completely inappropriate for work! Alarmed, you start to rush back to your room to change, but one of your roommates calmly takes you by the shoulder and assures you that you looke FINE, and it's too late to change anyway. Their behavior is weird, but they're right. The car just honked again. If you don't get out there, they'll probably leave without you.
Well, you're generally a responsible person, and you think you left a set of clothes you can change in to for emergencies at work so, frustrated, you sheepishly head out to the waiting carpoolers, feeling completely under-dressed. A feeling that only intensifies around the business-clad coworkers.
The ride is awkward for you, but everyone is polite and no one comments about your extremely casual style. Of course, they also don't really seem interested in talking to you beyond friendly greetings. You try to make excuses, but they don't appear concerned one way or the other. Everyone's been acting so strange today! Including yourself, you're forced to concede.
"We're here," the driver says as they pull the car in to a stop, addressing you directly for the first time the whole way there.
"Oh, yeah," you say, a little disoriented. "Thanks," you say, grabbing your bag and stepping out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
You walk in through the big double doors of the building, navigating the fresh-faced crowd. A brace-faced tween gives you a friendly wave. An older, balding man watches you and the others pass by with a friendly, but authoritarian air. You feel another wave of disorientation as you realize you've not been dropped off at work at all. This is the local junior high!
With a start you turn back toward the way you came, but you can see the car you arrived in is already long gone. You find yourself walking again in a daze, only to stop at a locker. Your locker, you realize, as you open the combination with practiced ease. Dozens of kids around you are doing the same thing as they chat and bustle towards class. Some are shorter than you, but many are taller, and that's when you look down at yourself and realize at some point you've become one of them!
You're startled as a bell rings loudly, and you reflexively grab your books and slam the locker shut. I doesn't occur to you til you're halfway there that you're headed to what you realize is your first period class. You get ahold of yourself, because you have no intention of going about your day as a 7th grader! Do you? You stop and consider your options.