--8:00 A.M.:  Wake up from terrible dream that I'd lost it all and everybody hated me.  Oh.  Crap.  Right.

--8:30 A.M.:  Balanced breakfast:  cereal, juice and human growth hormone.

--8:30 A.M.:  Eat cereal for breakfast.  Then deny eating cereal for breakfast.

--9:00 A.M.:  Practice apology in the mirror while rubbing on self tanner.

--9:10 A.M.:  Morning checklist:  Hair, combed.  Teeth, brushed.  Blood, tainted.

--9:15 A.M.:  Wonder if lifelong ban on cycling applies to my local spinning class?

--10:20 A.M.:  Wonder if admitting to using performance-enhancing drugs was really the best choice, after catching Jose Canseco digging through my garbage.

--11:00 A.M.:  Search for the OWN network on my cable provider . . . fail miserably.

--11:20 A.M.:  Get dressed in spandex one-piece that shows off my junk.

--12:00 P.M.:  Lunch at Burger King.  Steal ketchup packets.  Then call Oprah and confess to stealing ketchup packets.

--12:15 P.M.:  Admit I faked the cancer thing, too.  Screw it.  It's not like my life can get any worse.

--1:30 P.M.:  Dust trophy shelf.  Note how much faster I can do it now that there aren't any trophies.

--2:00 P.M.:  Meet with Macy's about new line of "Liestrong" bracelets.

--2:30 P.M.:  Get asked how I'm doing . . . respond with a lie.

--2:45 P.M.:  Grocery shop.  Stare jealously at the full bags of nuts.

--3:00 P.M.:  Zoo.  Head straight for "cheetah" exhibit.

--3:20 P.M.:  Be surprised when the thousands of cancer patients whose hopes and dreams I've completely destroyed somehow AREN'T appeased with a heartfelt, "My bad."

--3:50 P.M.:  Use the bathroom.  Erode the toilet with my chemically-laden urine stream.

--4:00 P.M.:  Get dumped as spokesman by Michelob Ultra.  Wow.  My stock really has plummeted.

--4:30 P.M.:  Remind the world I TOTALLY could have won without cheating.  Just as long as I had some human growth hormones, cortisone, EPO, steroids, plasma, saline, testosterone, and a special machine to put more oxygen into my blood.

--5:00 P.M.:  Receive a photo of Sheryl Crow cackling spitefully and gleefully flipping me off.

--7:30 P.M.:  Pop in my favorite movie, "Liar, Liar."

--8:50 P.M.:  Take steroids.  Hey, I said I was sorry.  Not that I was quitting.

--10:00 P.M.:  Slide into bed made entirely of money . . . sleep just fine.