Achoo! I grabbed my head to keep it from falling off. Barking at my sneeze, Sherlock jumped off my bed and trotted down off to the kitchen. “Et tu cane,” I shouted after my annoyed Yorkie’s fluffy butt. I kicked off the too hot twist of comforter. I needed hot tea or a cold ginger ale or both. Ugg, every inch of me ached in novel ways. Ding. I turned my congested head on my sore throat to face my phone. It looked like a text from Carla in Accounting. She always texted my cell instead of using the corporate chat. Thanks again for all your help last week. We already miss you, the text read. I craned over my phone trying to decipher Carla’s message. Wincing I lay back in bed. I hadn’t stepped foot in the office in three weeks and I gave up the pretense of working from home two weeks ago. For months I had been exhausted and drained. Cold or flu maybe plague whatever I had I just needed rest. I sent Carla a confused smiley emoji. Then I noticed my mail app. No new messages. Weird. Had I been checking my mail in my NyQuil addled sleep? I propped myself up on pillows to investigate. I scrolled. My grogginess evaporated. There had been new messages, lots of new emails. But there were also new responses, emails from me that I hadn’t sent. There were a series of back and forth about job interviews and job offers. These were email messages from people I didn’t know who clearly knew me. Reconstructing the last three months though emails I had never noticed I recognized my own words and phrases. This was me but not. I was funnier, looser, me without the awkward silences and second guessing. These emails were the products of a better more confident me. Two weeks ago I gave my admin job two weeks’ notice. After nearly eight years, I was gone. Apparently just this morning I’d started a new job as a copywriter for an ad agency! Suddenly the room tilted. My phone slipped from my hands as my belly lurched. On jelly legs I ran to the toilet to vomit. Shaking, I sagged onto the porcelain cool comfort. Somehow while I was sick in bed another me was job hunting and good at it. Another me, no, not another, a hacker, a pretender. Holding my trembling sides, I shoved the mad thoughts away. Research, I needed more research. I crawled back to my phone. How long has this been going on? I checked my social media. Happy selfies of me not me choked my feed. Day after day I went to museums and nightclubs. I joined a bowling league and took my mom to a drag queen brunch. Seeing myself arms around Mom smiling I was sick again. I puked myself empty. Hallowed, I tried to call my mother. I must be hallucinating or feverish. My eyes swam blurring my contacts. My fingers shivered so violently I couldn’t get my screen to respond. When had Mom last called me? When had I last spoken to anyone? My mind reeled. I needed to calm down and think. Water I needed water then maybe urgent care, I thought. There is always a logical answer. Ding. I was downing a bottled water in my kitchen when a voicemail chimed on my Alexa speaker. Confused I looked at the full untouched dog bowl. Turning I realized I was alone, completely alone. “You’ve had your chance,” my voice recording said. “Now it’s my turn.”