Well, I had something like that this morning, but for limbs I've never had. I woke up grumpy and tried to destroy my alarm clock with my hulking pincer-claws, but they didn't exist. I couldn't drive because I kept thinking I had little whip-like tendrils to shift gears and work the stereo and I got so distracted by it that I had to park and take the bus. At work, I found out that my body expected to have a ten foot prehensile tail with agile nodules at the end, capable of typing on a keyboard far more quickly and elegantly than my two hands so clearly designed for other tricks.
I got worried, so I called a nurse's hotline.
"Don't worry," she said, "That's just your alien DNA kicking in. It usually happens a few weeks before the 35th birthday."
Far too often, "don't worry" is the least comforting thing you can possibly hear.
Anyone else know about this? Should I be worried? Am I going to get a typing-tail or not?