“This is cyberpunk,” I say as I unload the dishwasher wearing mirrored Oakley shades, my full bicycling strap bag with pouches, a giant d-lock, and my phone mounted next to my head in a day-glo mesh phone case. All because I am half-way out the door the gym when I realize John will be home before I get back, and I want him to come home to an unloaded dishwasher.