take shower, do some laundry.
make bacon in oven1.
maybe play videogame.
remember laundry, go switch from washer to dryer.
discover that prior intestinal pain was actually the hatching of the eggs of some alien insectoid lifeform.
fell out of bed.
dragged a comb across my head2, 3.
1Place a whole lot of paper towels in the pan, three layers seems to work well. Mushrooms go next with a layer of garlic or shallots or rosemary if you're feeling like a less adventurous pansy; I like the sliced baby portabellos, but diversify your palate by all means. On top, bacon, seeded with black pepper and garlic. Again, spice throwdown here, whatever floats yer boat in the spice cabinet works pretty well on bacon simply because it is bacon and bacon is the Chuck Norris of meat flavors. Bacon is the flavor that pretty much any vegetarian meat substitute wishes it could have, regardless of what flavor it claims to be.
2brush, actually; in this context however, the comb is the virtualized function of trending the chaotic toward the merely hubric. Seen as metaphor, it's use is easily collectivized.
3Also to discover that the black ink from the cheapie bandanna that I was wearing had somehow made its way into my hair enough as to resist shampooing. Not horrible, just a little weird that my hair is darker in a really different way.