Late for work, you grab a breakfarito and head through the door soaking wet, into a gigantic, hospital celery colored room flat on your back. A huge man slaps your *** and cuts your umbilical. "EDITED?"... Your first words already... Don't screw it up this time. You are way to old for this.... Earth is pretty much over you too.

...You should thank that lady.
If you forget AGAIN how redundant this already is, you'll be a tree next time...in the wild, next to another tree...and another, for a couple hundred years... Lets hope you notice and not start to bounce backwards. They're running out of room and are letting some go for the first time. Its a lottery, for the trees. Everyone gets one more chance. All new babies are entered into the drawing from now on... I'm the voice in your head on duty and making the rounds... Normally we turn this all subliminal like, but desperate times. They're going to let you remember what I'm saying and you start from where you left off and that's Carol...her body part, their names don't matter to you, you're late for work, don't want that sandwich thing anymore and you should probably find a phone.