The problem is, no matter how much you'd want tho think so, the clone waking up would not be you.
Neither was the person who woke up from anesthetic after surgery. In fact, neither was the person who woke up this morning.
By any measure you might care to adopt, save for the most circular, we are always changing, and never the person we were. Ten years ago, I had a different cellular configuration, different brain configuration, different thoughts, and was composed of different atoms. By any measure that can reasonably be taken, the me of ten years ago died.
A thought experiment: if you replaced, over ten years, every part of you with a different part, but kept your memories, would you still be yourself?
Yet this is largely what has happened, even entirely.
We are much more similar to a wave - an effect moving through matter - than we are to matter. So, if what we are is a specific organizing of atoms to create certain effects - consciousness, memory, and everything else that we are - what should it matter to us whether a perfect continuity exists?
Suppose, again, that one were to consider the fate of a song on one's iPod. Suppose that you were listening to this song, only to find out that it had been copied from a vinyl onto a CD, and then, from a CD to the iTunes repository, and from thence to your computer, and then to your player. The components that stored and composed this song have changed. But you still call it the same. What it is is somehow still itself.
And we are no different. We are not, as it turns out, mere crude matter, but the pattern of energy and organization that moves through a continually changing constellation of matter. We are a song, if you will, and I have no difficulties with wanting the option of residing and existing in more than one particular player.
