I set the machine to drop me safely off in my own apartment at 3 a.m., approximately a week and a half ago. I snuck out of my apartment, careful not to wake the earlier myself, and have been idling around town all this time.

I've slept on park benches and under parked trucks. I am now the proud owner not only of a fully functional time machine, but also of an array of rashes and a scraggly spread of facial hair.

In short, this has been an awful experience.

So awful that I toyed with hiring thugs to threaten my earlier self, who was living happily in my apartment, well fed, clothed, etc. While it would be mildly amusing to create a time paradox-- if I hired the thugs, who hired them before I traveled back in time to hire them?-- I did not remember to bring enough money for thug hiring.

Today, finally, I was able to arrange for a new apartment, dial-up internet connection, and food so that I can pick up where I left off without competing with my younger alternate for my bank account.

Speaking of which... have you any checks for me? This machine of mine should make for us all a pretty penny. Assuming, of course, the penny were miles high and made of GOLD!