My day usually begins at 7 a.m., waking to the blaring sound of my personal robot Jim from a desktop PC aside my bed. After brushing and bath, my breakfast is a cocktail of veggies containing all the necessary vitamins and minerals I hope maintain my ability to better concentrate on matters digital, making me in effect Jim Sr
. After a few deft keystrokes, l then lovingly take up Jim Jr--now in the form of a handy tablet--and I'm off to school.
On the street, everywhere, flying cars. I have my own, but controlled by Jim Jr through a wired connection. That's because I'm still untrained in matters of navigation and besides too young to acquire the necessary license. Then having arrived, through wireless connection Jr and I are connected to a single large PC reputedly situated in an adjacent schoolbuilding formerly dedicated to the storage of cleaning utensils. Through these facilities I pump knowledge every day for two hours.
After school Jr of course takes me home. More than that I seldom access my busy neighborhood streets since almost everything else I need is found at home where I do what I like; including cohabitation with my Better Half Matilda, consuming her excellent meals, downing vast amounts of Exotic Imported Brew, and watching TV. I don't care much about anything else because I'm so basically like Jim Jr, sitting here at my PC.
My house is small, three rooms, consisting basically of walls that can be moved around at will. In some of the most remarkable developments of the century I am able to modify certain of their properties: For example, I can make one transparent at the push of a button; although let it be known I've yet to find occasion.
Incidentally mine is one of a group of several such homes walled off from the rest of the neighborhood, each one having its very own sports hall. So every day I go in for one sport or another, but I have no idea what the others' are like. I have tried to make friends about, but with little luck since they apparently don't need me in any way whatever; so if I want to talk, I talk to Jim Jr
He replaces me and my parents, (who long ago perished in The Great Uproar of 2018) always with me and always supporting me. Yet Jim Sr still commands the upper hand, assured with the 10 pm cocktail Jr is yet unable to manage, when I again brush and retire, an excellent routine to have a settled timetable, feeling vastly more organized.
That's my typical day