Greetings, Futuremen

The minutia of day-to-day existence in the early 21st century will no doubt be of interest to all futuremen who will have access to the archives of Blogger. In the far-flung hundreth century, presuming these words are still intelligible, such a detailed account may be of interest to school children or historians wondering what a book was.

Today, I was awakened at eight o'clock (as determined by the timekeeping system we earthbound-humans adhere to, which was originally based on the sun, Sol) by the alarm on my cellular phone (a primitive interpersonal communications interface, held in the hand, and under the hegemony of the phone utility company known as US Cellular).

I did some laundry, which involves putting garments made of polymers into a "washing machine", a top-loading device with a spinning bin that floods with water and detergent, and unloaded some fresh laundry from the "dryer", a front-loading machine that heats up to assist in the drying of the garmets that are spinning around inside of it. I placed all of these fresh, dry garments into a basket with my own two hands, as we do not yet have the robot slaves that make your lives so easy and carefree.

Forgive my use of "robot", as I am projecting a 20th century vision of the future onto your time. Robots were mechanical devices that could be programmed to do certain tasks. We use them to build cars, explore Mars (in the days before it was terraformed and populated - you futuremen fellows have gotten around to that, haven't you?), and other such tasks that would fatigue our fleshy, weak bodies.

My breakfast was a slice of whole-grain bread with peanut butter, a substance made from grinding and blending peanuts with oil and salt.

I then got into my car, which is made of metals and plastics, has four rubber tires, and an internal combustion engine fueled by gasoline, and went to a library, a vast warehouse for the "books" we rely on so much, to return some already-read books and pick out some new ones. Books are dangerous and you are well lucky that you have done away with them - the pressed paper pages can cut one's fingers, and too much reading of a fixed-size font can cause eye strain and headaches. Reading was a much more exhausting physical activity. The first e-ink displays are on the market right now, but they are very expensive, rather like exotic spices to those of centuries past. It was and will be ever thus. I'm sure there are those among you who cannot afford brain-links to the core-hive.

When I arrived home, I had some homework for classes. How quaint it will seem to you all, to know that we one inscribed our homework on pieces of paper bound together in a notebook, and then brought it to the classroom the next day to physically hand over to the instructor, rather than just hyper-flashing it to their dedicated brainspace. I envy you futuremen, for ours is a cumbersome system and transporting notebooks in the rain can be a tricky business.

Then, of course, I got bored of homework - a form of electronic Attention Deficit Disorder seems to define our age, as having a whole world-wide Internet at our fingertips is still a new and shiny thing from a cultural standpoint - so I decided I would pen this record, just for you.