Run!!

I read way too much sci-fi. So, depending on the day, I get some whacko ideas of me in an alternate universe. Of course, I’m always younger, possessed of valuable stock market information, horse race winners, and critical news about wars and disturbances. I mean, why go through this stuff and not influence things?
It would not be so nice if I was rudely tossed into someone’s dystopian Zombie resurrection. Chopping heads off zombies with a katana might be good for my form in Iaido or Kenjutsu ( Japanese sword arts that I have studied). But it’s not how I want to spend my life.

I’ve experienced enough real trauma in my life to want a pleasant bucolic alternate reality. I desire cute girlfriends. I want an attractive house in a lovely town. I aim to be a greatly respected pillar of my community. I wish to be a tenured professor at the local Ivy League school. And let’s remember that nice portfolio of investments! Life is good!

But then, as is always the case where you’ve been given lots of goodies, in stomps Godzilla, Mothra, or those damn zombies we thought we left behind in the last alternate reality.

Shit! I’m going back to my reality. This stuff is way too hazardous for me!