Writing had always been part of my life. In second grade, our class was asked to write an essay about the future of life on Earth. I wrote that humans would evolve into blobs of flesh who could only move around on scooters because they were so lazy their legs had become vestigial. I don't think I used the word 'vestigial' in my essay, though—I was 8. These future humans, however, would have evolved extra fingers to push all the buttons on their computers and televisions, and that's all they did from birth to death, watch TV and play on the computer. I thought it was brilliant. My teacher thought there was something seriously wrong with me.
I don't think she was wrong, but at least now people pay me to be weird.