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With a New Day Begins a New Life – Episode 1 (697 Words)

“Begin at once to live, and count each day as a separate life.” – Seneca

I’m dreaming.  I’m in my home and I see my two children in our first floor living room, one crawling towards whatever colorful object she sees, the other running through the house pretending he’s a monster truck.  Being a parent is both extremely rewarding and severely constraining at the same time.  With both my wife and I working during the day and busy taking the care of the kids the rest of the time, maybe my dreams are the only time I have to reflect.  For someone who has been very independent for most of my life, it’s been a challenging transition.  But I’ve heard people say “you have one life before kids and another life after”.  So far it’s been true.  I know I should be grateful, I should feel blessed at the life I’ve been given.  But I can’t help but feel there is more I’d like to do, and not enough time to do it.

I open my eyes.  This isn’t my bed.  This isn’t my room.  I’m a bit confused.  It’s like the scene you see in the movies where someone partied too hard and wakes up hungover at someone else’s place but don’t remember.  But I wasn’t drunk last night.  It was just a weekday night and I went to sleep by 10pm while reading after putting the kids to sleep.  I can’t even remember the last time I was drunk.  Maybe my wife drugged me in my sleep and had me moved out of the house as a joke?  No, she’s not really into pranks or humor.

I’m in a large gaudy one bedroom apartment and there’s a muffled chaos of activity outside.  I look outside the window and I see sky scrapers towering all around and above me with people and transports scattered below.  I think I’m on the top floor.

I take a deep breath.  I look around the apartment and find pictures.  They’re of me in places and with people I’ve never seen.  I only recognize my parents and brother.  I head to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.  I take another deep breath.  Whatever is happening is out of my control so let’s just take it slow and figure things out one step at a time.

I can’t figure out the password to the computer.  I have a phone but it’s also locked and I don’t seem to know the pin.  I take a deep breath.  I laugh out loud. I look in the fridge.  I find some pizza and a beer.  At least he keeps his fridge stocked, and pizza and a beer seem like the logical thing to do at this point.

I sit at the kitchen counter and ponder my next move.  I look for something to tell me the date.  I find an issue of an investment magazine with yesterday’s date, and the TV morning news channel confirms today’s date.  At least I haven’t awoken from some long coma, and there aren’t zombies everywhere with the world on fire.

I look around the apartment some more but careful not to move things around too much.  I glance around for hidden cameras waiting for someone to tell me I’ve been “punked”.  But I don’t think they do that to average people.

In an underwear drawer I find a shoebox of cash and some extra old school cell phones.  I grab one.  No pin.  I call my wife.  Wrong Number.  That’s concerning.  I don’t know any other numbers by heart so I realize I need to head out and find the internet.

I grab some clothes and head out the door.  I have no idea what’s going on but I hope it’ll all end soon and I’ll get back to my reality.  Part of me feels a little thrilled and curious, but the majority just wants to know that my family is okay.

I open the door.  “Good timing!” A woman plants a quick kiss on me and heads into the apartment with coffee and a bag of something in her hand.  “Oh boy,” I say to myself.

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