[ WP ] Humanity has achieved a utopia with absolutely no nasty surprises ( Such as everyone being dead or brainwashed ) . Write a story about how it came about and/or an average day in said utopia .

Mike's alarm went off. 
 
 He did n't react at first, but the sickeningly sweet synthesized sounds and buzzing from his iPhone roused him after a few moments and he slapped at it still half asleep. 
 
 After a a handful of half-hearted slaps, he finally found the screen. The buzzing and canned music went silent. 
 
 He rolled over, yawning and stretching, before he grabbed the phone. 
 
 *Rise and shine! * the alarm message read. *Another day, another dollar! * 
 
 In spite of the fact that he'd had that set as his alarm name for over a month, he chuckled. It sounded so old-fashioned, but he'd always enjoyed retro sayings like that. `` Daddy-o,'' `` dawg,'' `` wakey-wakey, eggs and bake-y''... 
 
 He smiled. The phone's camera recognized his face and the screen unlocked. 
 
 The battery was low, down around 25 percent. Mike's smile became a frown. The damn thing did n't hold a charge as well as it used to; he'd have to plug it in sometime before Tuesday to keep it from dying. 
 
 Mike sighed and opened the calendar. 
 
 Greg was having a party tonight -- dinner followed by a double-feature at the AMC: *Once, Twice, and Again*, a vehicle for the aging Keira Knightley, and director Dee Rees's swan song, *The Miracle Grower*, a biopic of Professor Mark Post. 
 
 *Eh... * 
 
 Mike marked himself down as `` maybe'' attending and looked at the rest of his schedule. The Rangers played the Angels tonight for control of the West... Baylor was going up against the Cal Berkeley in a Friday-night non-conference matchup... both of those sounded more entertaining than watching an aging actress play matchmaker or some circlejerking film about how Post was the greatest scientist since Crick and Watson. He'd figure out which game to watch later. 
 
 When it came to the afternoon, he had a doctor's appointment at 1:00 for the fifth shot in his series; his T cell count was almost back to normal -- *thanks for that, Sarah, you fucking whore*. A Skype call with mom and dad at 2:15 and the Costco delivery truck came by at 5:00 with the synth Kobe beef -- not as nice as the organic stuff, of course, but still tasty. 
 
 A pretty light Wednesday, all things considered. 
 
 His phone buzzed and a text notification appeared from Clarissa. 
 
 *You working today? You've been handling a lot of weekend shifts. Take today for yourself if you need to. * 
 
 Mike chewed his lower lip for a second, then looked over at his desk. He *had* been feeling a little ground down lately, and he needed to look into replacing the chair. His doctor had warned him that he was spending too many hours in it even though he spent a solid hour-and-a-half walking outside every day. 
 
 `` Siri,'' he said. The home button glowed and the iPhone beeped. 
 
 `` Tell Clarissa,'you're right, I've been taking too many Friday shifts. I'm going to take today off.'' 
 
 The screen blinked and Mike's text appeared, exactly as he'd spoken it. 
 
 `` Are you ready to send to --'' 
 
 `` Yep.'' 
 
 `` Sent.'' 
 
 A moment later, Clarissa answered, wishing him well and telling him to relax; they had more than enough to cover the shift today. 
 
 Mike yawned and re-set his alarm for 12:00. The doc's office was only fifteen minutes away by auto-Uber, quicker than that if Google Go had any available vehicles for scheduling. He could squeeze in another few hours of sleep if he could manage to doze off. 
 
 *Man, * he thought as his eyes fluttered down. *I do n't have any free time any more... *
