No way. No freaking way.

I’m in bed, again.

The first day, I didn’t even remember falling asleep. The second day--yesterday--I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the park bench.

Can I even call them days? The sun never went down. Strangely enough, the sun’s brightness doesn’t bother my eyes at all. Not even when I go from a darker to a lighter area.

Alright, let’s call them days, where a day starts when I wake in bed. So today is officially the third day. I need to write this down somewhere. I search the house for a pen and paper. Despite being in year 20032 (it’s 2032? What happened between 0 and 2032?) I’m still old-school, whatever that means. I like my pen and paper.

I find paper on a shelf in the office of...my house and use a pen from one of the boxes of seemingly new pens next to the paper. After drawing three marks, I pin the paper to the living room wall with a small knife from the kitchen. Then it occurs to me, what if the world resets every time I sleep?

I run to the park and find the baby still sitting lifelessly on the swing. I heave a sigh of relief. Then my stomach growls.

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Upon returning home I open the fridge and take out an apple. I start to cut the fruit with one of the other small knives, but then I see some blood spilling out and feel a tingling sensation on my left hand. I’d cut myself.

It doesn’t hurt, like I expect it to. I stand still, watching the blood flow out in amazement before I realize that I should stem the flow. As I start to move, however, the blood turns into white numbers--like the ones flying off the edges of all those body parts or the ones that made up the baby on the swing--and disappears. A string of the numbers floats across my finger and the cut closes. I’m amused more than amazed. What would happen if I get a bigger injury? Or if I drown? Not that I really want to try, but doesn’t this make me virtually immortal?

I bite into the apple and feel it crunch between my teeth. Again, no taste, no sound, no texture. It catches in my throat and I cough. Mechanically, I pull out a cup and fill it with water from the refrigerator. Water is the only thing that tastes like it should: nothing. I grimace. Were my jokes always this bad?

I have a sudden urge to pee. Running to the bathroom I tug off my belt and relieve myself. I glance in the mirror as I wash my hands and see a handsome face staring back at me. I admire my face, then pull of my shirt and stare at my body. Was I some sort of model? Is that even...me?

I touch my abs and involuntarily shiver. My hands are still wet. Strange. I wipe them on one of the two hanging towels and realize I left the water running. Not being able to hear is turning out to be quite the hassle. If this were the real world, I would be wasting a ton of money. Wait a minute, real world? This world is not real?

Another memory comes back to me.