Future Essay: My Life in the Year 2025

BNNNT! BNNNT! BNNT! The insistent rudeness of my alarm clock jars me from my restful slumber.

Oy..., I groan as I slowly stir from within my warm, soft mound of blankets. I sigh as I roll over and hit the snooze button.

Greetings and good morning, sir! speaks the almost annoyingly cheerful voice of my robotic butler, Giskard. Your coffee is ready at it's usual place. You omelet will be done shortly. May I assist you in any way?

No, thank you, I'll be up in a minute... I mumble as I slowly crack open my eyes. As usual, Giskard is standing at the foot of my bed, that somehow creepy smile permanently set into his metallic face.

Excellent, sir! I shall start the automat for you!

Ah, the automat. Mankind's greatest invention. Step into a shower-sized cubicle, hit a button, and five minutes later, after the nanobots have had their way with you, emerge clean, coiffed, and smelling of your favorite perfume, cologne, or aftershave. No fuss, no muss. Americanism at its best. I don't even have to expend energy to get clean...

Fifteen minutes, two cups of coffee, and one very delicious omelet later, I'm striding along the walkway of my apartment building, my indestructible nanocotton suit automatically adjusting itself to today's slightly damp, chilly weather. For many stories above and below me, I see the usual throng of old and young men and women, some coming home, others, like me, heading to work. A few raise a hand in greeting. I wave back, then make my way onto the local ExpressWay.

Since I know you're from the past, a short explanation: the ExpressWays are like long moving sidewalks. They were created in response to the terrible energy crisis you will face in a few years. The ExpressWays effectively replaced automobiles for all but long-distance travel. Those autos still in use are entirely electric, and are community/ municipality owned. Not only has this solved the energy crisis, but the air is much cleaner, and we have much more park space. Our Cities are truly green. Vegetation is rampant. For a one-time country boy, this is heaven.

I arrive at work shortly. My job? I'm a senior programmer for the local enviro-science utility. Our lab helps to continually improve the climate quality in our portion of the City. It's a constant, though enjoyable, fight to find and eradicate sources of past pollution, thus purifying the environment. I help design and implement the software the big-brains in the labs use to track and record their studies. It's hard at times, but I like it. I sit at a cubicle most of the day, with a few quick meetings here and there between various co-workers and myself. There's the occasional prank or two, but for the most part we take our jobs seriously, in a upbeat sort-of-way. Boredom's never an issue, and I don't think I've ever had a day where I had to drag myself to work. It's an unbeatable feeling, having a job you love...

Oh, you're probably wondering what I meant by the City, right? Well, at first the new nanotechnology was only available in the larger metropolitan areas, so there was a slow wave of people moving back into cities like Chicago, New York, etc. With the advent of the ExpressWays, it became a surge. Before long, almost seventy-five percent of each states' population lived in one large, local city. It became common to refer to one's residence as being in the city. Eventually, it became common practice to verbally capitalize the 'C'. So each city became a City. My City was formally called Detroit. So there's your history lesson for today.

Twelve unbelievably short hours later, I'm once again on the ExpressWay. The cheerful sunshine of this morning has been replaced by a forbidding gloom, and before I'm halfway home, it begins to rain. The slightly bitter smell in the air tells me this is one of the infrequent dirty-rain spells the science boys say we should expect for another 25 to 30 years. Apparently, it's going to take a while for all that carbon and whatnot we had so much fun belching into the air to dissipate, even with the nano-airscrubbers. I snug my faithful Tigers cap a little more firmly onto my head and try not to think about how much work this rain was rendering useless. Sigh. Tomorrow's another day, I suppose.

One excessively long stop at the local grocery store later [automats, nanotechnology, robots, and we still can't invent a better cashier system. Grrr...], I arrive back home. After partially satiating Louie, my cat, in his unquenchable need to be petted, cuddled, and fed, I settle down on my nice soft couch.

Any calls, Giskard? I ask, already knowing the answer.

I am so sorry, sir. No one has placed a call to this residence. The programmed cheeriness of the delivery makes the reply more annoying, somehow. Shall I place a call for you, sir?

No, I reply, That isn't necessary. Pop a squat, Giskard. We're watching TV.

Long accustomed to my manner of speech, loyal old Giskard seats himself on the sofa chair next to mine, politely pretending to watch the television with me for the next several hours. Two Farscape marathon sessions later, I groggily make my way to bed, alone as usual.

Good night, sir! Pleasant dreams! comes the soft voice of Giskard.

G'nite... I mumble as my eyes slowly close, and I drift off to sleep. Another day, the same as many others...