"Do you want to teach another class?", the Whctemh asks me. » Y G H M®: the stories, yo
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“Do you want to teach another class?”, the Whctemh asks me.

“Do you want to teach another class?”, the Whctemh asks me.

“No”, I reply, “this is good.”

“Well”, the Whctemh replies, “it´s up to you if you want to go back. If you can´t make it, we´ll find a replacement for your class. Whatever you decide–good luck!”

This is my first day teaching dynamics; technically, I´ve gotten out of wage slavery; my day teaching the class is over; I don´t live at school; after class, my shift ends and I can do what I want; it´s my life.



The alarm is going off. I have to teach a class at 8am; time to get ready for the day.

I reach over for the alarm.

I pause.

I grab the alarm clock and throw it against the far wall. It breaks.


The alarm stops going off.

I hit snooze, motherfucker.

I think of that movie where this quote came from; I chuckle. I put my head back on the pillow.

Fuck it.

Moments later, I´m asleep.

I check my messages on my phone. It´s 9am.


They didn´t call? What happened to my class? Did they find a replacement teacher?

I turn my head to look out the window.

Out of wage slavery–but where the fuck am I now?

I get out of bed; slowly walking down the stairs, I smell coffee; is that bacon, I smell?

“Good morning, sunshine”, my wife says.

“Um”, I reply, “ok?”

She turns back to the pancake griddle.

“Hey”, she replies, “I saw you fell back asleep so I called the school to let them know that you wouldn´t make it in today. They said they´ld send in the digitalrobot to teach today.”

“Oh!”, I reply.

I forgot about that–the robots!

I pull the chair out from the kitchen table and sit down.

“Here´s your coffee”, my wife says as she places the taza on the table in front of me.

She turns and takes a step back towards the pancake griddle.

I take a sip of my coffee.

It´s 10am.

Now, I´m awake.

I take my plate off the table and place it in the sink; I turn on the faucet and wash it; I place it in the dryer rack; even though the particlefabricator can manufacture plates, I like doing it this way.


“I´m going to go to the store. You want anything?”, I ask my wife as I put my tennis shoe on.

“Mustard”, she replies, “I´m making chuletas for dinner.”

“Ok”, I reply as I put my other shoe on.

I tie my shoe; I still like the way this feels. #accomplishment

“19 pesos”, the cashier says as she puts the mustard into a bag.

I hand her the 20 peso efectivo; she gives me my change.

“See you tonight?”, I ask her as I grab the bag with mustard.

“8pm?”, she asks as she turns her head to me then looks away.

“At the spot”, I reply as I turn my head from her.

I leave the store.

I have to stop this.

The walk back home takes 15 minutes if you take the most direct path; that day, I decide to walk a different route back; this way takes 19 minutes and is 2.3 kilometers long; I had timed myself once on this route; going along the ocean, I can watch the surfers catching waves; occasionally, a person parasailing will pass by; this day is no exception.


“Are you sure you want to do this?”, the cashier asks me as she pushes the box across the table to me.

“Yeah”, I reply as I grab the box.


I place the box on the table in the living room; opening it, the first thing that I can see is that the DVD is there, like always.

I place it in the machine.

The microwave beeps; the palomitas are ready; I get up from the sofa.

I pour hot sauce on the palomitas; the movie starts playing.

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