The problem of not being Ernest

I awoke. Slowly. Throbbing headache.
Reached slowly for my glasses. Vision still. Blurred.

I lay still for around a quarter of an hour before I tried to move again. Strange, I realised I hadn't had a drink for a few days, nor had shut my head in the fridge, so I had no explanation for the headache.
I began to move, slowly as usual. Reaching for my head, I noticed my hands were... different. I got up, faster now, and lunged for the mirror. It was as I had imagined.
Someone had swapped my brain into the body of Eva Longoria.