to the sound of Green Day on the radio.
He eats a bowl of Kellog's Corn Flakes with milk, gets in his Ford Escape hybrid, and drives to work.
At work, he uses his Hewlett Packard computer to complete his tasks.
At home, he's too tired to cook, so he orders a Domino's pizza, powers up his Apple laptop, and surfs Daily Kos. In an open thread, he makes a couple of snarky comments encouraging Texas to secede.
In the background, the Oakland A's are playing the Detroit Tigers.
In the next room, his older kid watches a Disney movie while his wife feeds the baby Gerber baby food.
He starts to work on his latest diary masterpiece, tentatively entitled "Obama to California: Drop Dead." He'll explain why California needs to solve its own problems and fix its tax structure without seeking a backstop from the federal government. He's sure it'll be received at least as well as his last screed on why Michigan's misery is not his responsibility.
And he goes to sleep at night, secure in the knowledge that he's worked hard to elect a President who came to national attention by telling America:
We worship an "awesome God" in the Blue States, and we don’t like federal agents poking around in our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and yes, we’ve got some gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.