You figure that this is your first real wish, and you want to make it a good one; nothing lame and girly like nail-painting! You've always considered yourself an animal lover, in the "they are amazing, I platonically love and admire both domesticated and wild animals" ... not in THAT way!
But how to word your wish so it doesn't become permanent, or change anything around you from the past or future?
Haltingly, you begin:
"After 5 minutes time, begin to change my current body, without pain, from a human form and function to that of a river otter's, maintaining my current human thoughts and memories while adding otter instincts and abilities. Maintain this change for 1 hour before reverting my form back to my current human body exactly as it was before this change."
You scour the phrasing for any loopholes, mistakes, or possible ways it could go wrong. Tweaking some grammar and syntax, finally satisfied, you lean forward and once more press ENTER.
The tingling from before returns ten-fold, rushing in a wave up from your toes to the tips of your ears.
Standing up, you figure you have 5 minutes to get ready for this change. Luckily, your apartment is on the edge of town, in a converted carriage house behind a private home. There are walking trails and even streams and a reservoir nearby, so you slip outside and into the trees behind your home. Once concealed in the dense underbrush, you send up a silent "thanks" to the universe that it is a warm spring day as you quickly strip your clothes off. Opting to leave your panties on, since, hopefully you'll be shrinking and able to step out of them easily, you undo the back of your bra strap, tucking it slightly under a fallen log with the rest of your garments. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wait.