could, in some variation of our fine universe, be true. I hear that on the third moon of Lotusi XI, there was an office pool on how I'd go. Unfortunately the popular choice was 'Death by Stampede' and thus, as fate would have it, the alternate me was crushed rather efficiently by a herd of free-range armored rhino thingies.
But on this side of the space-time continuum, I am whole, untrampled and only slightly wrinkled from the hectic pace of life. Writing time is squeezed in between losing an Uno tournament to a nine year old and trying to sell air to people who, it should be noted, reside on an oxygen-rich planet.
But I assure you that I have not been disintegrated, unassembled or devoured by by cats (although anything's possible with this crew). I am merely pressed for time and, as it happens, time is pressing right back.