He got up.
He went to the ballpark at 8 o'clock. He called somebody in San Diego about an article on him. Eventually, to avoid excess conversation, he faxed over his biography.
Today was also a wash day. Left the dryer running.
For breakfast, he was in the mood for bacon, but it was gone by the time he got to breakfast. He accused the "snuffers" of eating all the bacon before he could have some.
Before getting to the park, he discovered that somebody was in his parking space. Number 116. When he eventually got the space for his car, a lady came up and gave him grief for taking her space. They had words.