It's another Sunday night and I'm imagining a future world in which all labor is done by robots leaving humans free to pursue intellectual, artistic, and other superfluous pursuits. We'll all live rich and abundant lives leaving nothing to be desired and will die fulfilled and regret-free at the ripe old age of 125. This is the ideal future world that exists in my head and I am of course, hoping it would not so strongly parallel Asimov's I, Robot but I digress. I'm really just avoiding bed because I'm avoiding Monday as well as the entire work-week. I hate Sunday nights.

Why, oh why can't we all just do what we wanna do? It's a shame that so much of our lives are spent simply surviving.