In the mornings, you don’t wake up. You activate. Your eyes switching on at the precise time each day, just as programmed. It’s like a machine being brought out of sleep mode, immediately ready to carry out its preprogrammed tasks. You rise from bed and move to the closet, dressing in a tight spandex outfit for your workout.
In the gym you begin your programmed routine. Cardio, getting your blood pumping. Your legs pumping against the pedals of the stationary bike like a well oiled machine. Your skin glistening with sweat as your pulse quickens. All this, and yet you feel no strain. The effort is meaningless, you merely execute your programming. Next is the weights. Your arms curl and pump the heavy weights, straining in ways you cannot feel. Your mind occupied by the kinetic feeling of the mechanical movements. Up, down. Up, down. Over and over. Your body screams for relief, but the feelings do not reach your brain. Squats, lunges, lifts, curls, crunches, running through the day’s routine one task at a time. Each action mechanical and automatic. Finally it is for your stretches. Your body bending and contorting to precise angles, muscles straining as your programming pushes you to the day’s goal. There is no thought, no resistance, no pain, there is only your programming. You merely execute it, like any other machine performing its task.
Next is the shower. You strip the clothes from your body and step under the water, although you cannot feel it. Shampoo, scrub, rinse. Conditioner, scrub, wait, rinse. Shaving cream, razor, leg, long straight lines, rinse. Soap, loofa, scrub, rinse. Water off, towel. Hair done in the prescribed manner. Makeup applied with precision. Perfume splashed in exacting amounts. The same identical routine every day. Practiced, programmed, precise. No thought required. You dress in your uniform, nothing more than some revealing strips of gossamer fabric. One last visual inspection, and on to your next task.
Into the kitchen now, to prepare breakfast. This is different each day, the week’s menu set out in an orderly fashion. Fruit, yogurt, toast, bagel, eggs, sausage, omelets, each recipe memorized and programmed in. You select ingredients and prepare them to exacting specifications. Once the day’s items are perfectly seasoned and plated you arrange them on a tray and carry them to the bedroom.
You place the tray on the bedside table in the exact position you did every day before, and just like that your morning tasks are complete. With the last of your programming processed, you assume your ready position. You take the blindfold from its place on the dresser and slide it down over your eyes, cutting yourself off from visual input. Even without your eyes it is trivial to find your way to the preprogrammed spot on the floor, and you sink to your knees with practiced precision. And then…. Nothing. Your programmed routine complete, you are at rest. In Standby. You are not patient, for that word is meaningless to you. You are programmed to wait, so you do. Motionless, thoughtless, at peace. Ready for me to wake and issue your next command.
dailybridgerton
gamechangershow
2087
