A chat with my nerd friends: Maybe I should start again? What for? After twenty-two blogs? Unfortunately, nobody explained to me the difference between grade inflation and the real education so I tend to demonstrate poor spelling and even poorer grammar, not to mention the contents. I flopped writing? Work too? Ahem, I stand to correct, at work, I, a true millennial, believe I am an overachiever who just cannot be understood by loser bosses. Even my mother said so. One thing I am good at is being original. Which millennial-nerd, I ask you, would dare write such a blog? Hmmm, noted? You should be happy with this blog as no other self-respecting nerd would be seen dead posting this (not even my former English teacher and her retired-teacher-tech-know-nerd-to-be cronies.) The least I should receive is gratitude. Anyway, enough of ranting. Back to business at hand.
I realize my three days’ back-to-past odyssey is over and I can safely return to my own time. I have to admit right now I am definitely not in the condition I came in. You laugh and say i am just a pampered cry baby? Wait till you see the marks of mosquito bites which have left no ground/skin untouched! Mosquitoes, leeches, all sorts of creepy things…Yet, come what may, I am all ready to be teleported home -back to Dronesville. I can imagine the shock of my fellow marines from 1942 when they wake up and find that their human metal detector has vanished into thin air!
The youngest nerd (from Generation Z) asks in the chat, “How can you be so sure you can come back?” Before I can answer, the others answer her, “That’s the way we millennials are, don’t you know? We trust the tech!” We have grown up with it. How not to trust it? I am once again full of confidence and hope waiting for midnight. Home sweet home. Here I come. Maybe.
As the digital clock on my mobile phone home screen blinks 11:55 I start feeling the change in the robot strapped to my body. This is immediately interrupted by gunfire and men running around. The enemy has located our camp and their bombers are firing at us overhead, with explosions all round and everybody running for cover. The camp is on fire. At first I run with the marines. Then I come to a halt. I am supposed to be teleported to future by the time travel portal. Why am I still here? Maybe my robot is not working? Maybe I get stuck in the 1940s? Maybe I never see home again? Maybe…I should start again.
(To be continued)