I'd like to wake up healthily - a rooster crowing, balboa tree yawning, top 'o' the morninging, sorta thing. Then it would be time for the ferrets to be fed. There'd be three of them so they'd always have friends to play with, and have goofy group dynamics. Maybe one gets left behind in all the ferret games some of the time, but they'd secretly be my favorite. Shh.  After that, I'd drink a glass of orange juice like they do in the commercials. No dingy density differentials making it look like an unappetizing science experiment. No smears or smudges. Ahh. 

Then I'd step out of my constricting, dingy home and onto Venus. Yeah, that Venus. I'd take a breath of the acrid cloud atmosphere, and it would taste like sour powder. Painful, but in a good way. I would breathe again. One thing I wouldn't do is check the mail because I wouldn't have a mailbox because they only give you annoying ads, plus I don't think it would be on any routes. Similarly, no phones - God, I hate those. Them's getting CUT from my daily routine. Snip snap, don't look back. Venus is a dream destination not just from the solitude from spam, but also because it's really warm - some call it the heat vent of the universe. It has everything you would ever want, even the deficiencies. 

After that little morning routine, I'm not sure what I would spend my time doing. It wouldn't be the same every day, because that would be dull, and it probably wouldn't be much. In this moment, my life goals plateau at getting to a point where I can do nothing sustainably. I could learn to play solitaire. . .

At bedtime (which would be a fleety (fleety would be a word) and dynamic time that could change without consequence) I would take with me a gallon of two-percent from an overworked fridge and drink as much of it as I please. The rest of it would sit overnight in the Chernobyl climate, and rot into a nice Wensleydale I could tuck into next Tea.  

Yeah, none of that happens.