A couple of years ago I had gills and a penchant for jumping out onto the shore, feeling the sun stroke my scales. I think I might've made it to amphibian now. I can't quite leave the water behind, but at least I can sit in the air and eat bugs.
Surprisingly, readjusting to office work took less time than I expected. The first day of sitting in front of the computer, trying to remember what commands I needed for the results I wanted was a little scary. By the end of the day, my fingers were flowing across the keys again, dredging up memories banished to the recesses of my mind. Cool water flowing against my skin as I swim upstream and down, no gills, no scales, but still calming. I'm staying near the surface, avoiding the dangers of the depths, the places where my legs will atrophy from disuse.
Back on land, stretching those legs, I can make it to the low hanging trees. Protected, I can assess and assist but the medic is still the one exposed. Airway, IVs, drive, think, question, learn. Keep jumping. I'm slowly being left behind by others who are growing feathers and fur, paramedics, nurses, doctors. I'm just a fatter frog.
No teeth to eat the big stuff. No claws to climb higher. No feathers to get me off the ground. Application after application, how do I explain? They see a frog. Maybe some potential, but not enough. Another dozen years could see something else entirely, but no evolution occurs alone.