If You’re Not Doing Anything Wrong. . .

If You’re Not Doing Anything Wrong . . .

This morning is like every other morning. The alarm goes off at 6:00 in the morning. I brush my teeth, shower, comb my hair, all the normal things I do every morning. Before I get dressed a government agent does a thorough physical examination of my body. He checks that mole, weighs me, and checks my reflexes. Tomorrow I’ll ask him to warm his hands a little bit before that prostate exam. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After getting dressed I walk into the kitchen, pour my coffee, and eat breakfast. Someone from the government draws my blood as I’m finishing my coffee to make sure my caffeine, cholesterol, and other factors are within the government mandated levels. It goes in a big database to monitor my levels and see if any “recommendations” need to be made for me. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After finishing my coffee I do my morning devotionals. Romans, chapters 13 through 1 this morning. The Bible app on my tablet is a great resource for reading, studying, meditating on the word, and automatically submitting all my data. Of course I complete the usual government mandated questionnaire asking what I’m reading, why I’m reading this passage, what I’m going to do with it, and perform a retinal scan and swear to not use this information in any way unapproved by government regulations. This data goes into a big database to compare with others and make sure I’m not focused too much on anything specific. Occasionally, a gentleman with the government interviews me regarding the previous Sunday’s sermon when a red flag trips. It’s a little inconvenient, but that’s okay. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After finishing my government recorded prayer, I awake my daughter. She wakes up a little groggy as usual, gets dressed, and heads into the kitchen to eat. Cheerios is what she must eat this morning. I received a phone call from a government official warning me that I am nearing the threshold of sugary cereal for the month. My mistake, I know how much she loves her Trix and Lucky Charms and am too generous in allowing her to have that. I submit our breakfast choice into the appropriate database and pour her the approved 1% milk. She finishes all but three bites. I record that into the database and then clean up her dishes. It’s a little bit of a hassle, but that’s okay. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After breakfast, it’s time to go to our approved preschool. I head out to the driveway and am surprised to see a stranger near my car. It’s okay, it’s only the government official checking my car over for the day. I forgot that one of the cameras was not transmitting correctly. Four on the driver, four on each passenger, and four facing out in each direction. They monitor my driving patterns, speed, and safety on the road. They also monitor pedestrians to be sure nothing naughty is going on. I’m a great driver, only two infractions in fifteen years. All those cameras can really drain the battery if I forget to turn them off when I get home. I don’t need them running there, the cameras on my house cover ever interior room and the outside. Some say it’s an invasion of privacy. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After dropping off my daughter at preschool I head to work. Today is a beautiful day so I’m going to powerwash the building. I really wanted to do it three months ago when it was cooler, but the soap needed to clean the grime off has some ingredient that someone found a way to make into some type of illegal substance. I’m not exactly sure of all the details, the database of approved chemicals tripped off a warning. It took me three months go get approval from the various government agencies in order to get the soap. I had to submit all my information, write a proposal on why I needed it, and go to an approved location in order to purchase the soap. This was a tough job. I wanted to make sure I have enough to finish the job but am not allowed to have any left over because someone could abuse it. If any is left over, all that paperwork to return the extra is very complicated. It’s okay though. The cameras are showing I’m doing my job properly and within the law. I even volunteered to wear one on my head just to make sure the live feed to the approved agency was seeing I’m working within the law. The camera is a little heavy, and this July heat makes the work hot and muggy, but that’s the way it goes. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After work I go to pick up my daughter from preschool and drive home. She tells me all about her day. Today she learned about the letter “M”. She then had an interview to review everything she had learned. I received an email with the testing results. It’s really great! Everything she has learned this year goes into a big database to compare her learning with other children her age. If the teacher isn’t up to par, she’s in big trouble; but she’s not doing anything wrong, so she has nothing to worry about. My daughter is slipping a little when it comes to her numbers between eleven and fifteen. We’ll have to work on that a little bit or else she’ll require “additional” help. She’s a smart kid who just confuses a few numbers. She’s not doing anything wrong, so she has nothing to worry about.

We eat dinner like usual, watch some television, and read some books. Yes, there is a database for all of those, and it makes things time consuming; but I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

Next is bath time. I help her undress as a government official watches. This is the point where I must leave the room. My daughter is inspected for all bumps, bruises, and scratches. She is then interviewed to be sure that she is safe. I remember a few months ago when she skinned her knee while walking to the mailbox. I was so stupid, now could I have let that happen. I know to make her wear a helmet and padding before walking out onto the pavement. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Thankfully one of the 28 cameras on the front of the house proved that I had not done anything wrong and that it was an accident. This was confirmed by the nurse, doctor, and psychiatrist at the hospital, so all is well. This seems like a huge invasion of my privacy, but it’s for the children. I know this examination will turn out just fine. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about.

After bath, I tuck her into bed. I then walk around the house with a government official to prove that my living conditions are safe and secure. The gun safe always takes a lot of time. A few years back my grandfather passed down an antique rifle that belonged to his father. The gun is over 120 years old, they don’t make ammo for it, and it can’t shoot anyway. However, we must check to be sure that it is safe and could not harm anyone. It’s not like those new, dangerous firearms that are capable of firing a magazine with three bullets. You don’t need three bullets to take down a deer, why have a gun with that much firepower. On the other hand, it may have helped the elderly lady down the street. Poor thing. She came to her senses last year and got rid of that death pistol her son gave her for “protection”. Some guy who obviously isn’t obtaining his medications in a legal way broke into her house and killed her, just so he could have her pain pills. I’m so glad I’m not on any medications any more. Those databases are always getting hacked and then dumped onto the internet. You wouldn’t believe what types of medications people I know are on; can’t hide those skeletons! These databases and checks can be really annoying, but for public safety I fully support them. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to worry about. If you’re not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about!

It’s been a long day and I’m ready to head to bed. Doors and windows are locked, lights are off, finally I get some shut eye. Then I hear it, little footsteps walking toward me. I turn on the lamp and see my daughter with tears in her eyes. Bad dream again? No, not this time. She’s worried about mommy, wants to know when she’ll be home. I gently remind her that mommy will be home soon, I hope. Last week some government officials arrested her at work. Apparently, she did something wrong. We don’t really know what it is, but we’re a little worried about it.

 

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