Prelude to Perfection
an excerpt

Zombies and robots are very much of the same nature. Well, zombies are piles of rotting flesh and robots are metallic, but the general idea that they are not animated by souls and have no aspirations for the future are the same. With zombies and robots it's just now, the present, the task at hand. Zombies just happen to want to eat brains and robots just happen to want what their programmers tell them to do. Either way, it's all the same thing. They're beings without a sense of self.
Berry realized this as he woke up every morning to the annoying sharp beep beep beep's of his digital alarm clock. He'd hit the snooze button as he, like many Americans, is a master of the art of procrastination and sleep a restless extra five, ten, fifteen minutes more before actually bringing himself to get up. The actual getting up part of the day was the worst, it was painful and discouraging. Every morning was the tragedy of being torn away from peace and comfort to engage in the mundane bullshit of everyday life. Every morning was the same. Not weekends, zombies and robots only worked the week days, so Berry could sleep in on weekends. More accurately, all Mondays through Fridays were the same. Miserable.
Berry isn't a very good protagonist in the fact that no one wants to know about his life. Berry, to put it very bluntly, is a loser. He's fat, lazy, cynical, and unpopular. Every aspect of him and his life is boring. Even Berry knows this about himself and he wallows in self-pity whenever he has spare time.