After an eternity of doing what so many others suggest, I'd begin to wonder what the point of it all was.
Then I might restart all of reality anew, and maybe have a go at creating a planet where a bunch of giant lizards rule the world. Before I get bored some millions of years later and decide that Rocks Fall, Everyone Dies.
Basically, after messing around with omnipotence that the ability to hack real life would imply for some odd billions of years (let's hack away Heat Death [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heat_death_of_the_universe], that's always a downer at parties), I'd spend a nearly incomprehensible amount of time, even compared to the geological scale, just being bored.
I would probably then attempt to reset everything, and wipe myself of all memories of my triumphs and the futility of untold aeons of perfect (and cognizant) reality manipulation, up to and including engineering the rise and fall of no less than four intergalactic religions based off of drunken ramblings I told to some alien on a hill. But then I would stop at just that point, and decide to carry my memories as proof of my folly and a reminder never again to usurp the station of Godhead with my magical reality-hacking powers. Instead, I would undo all of my mistakes and return reality to its rightful place.
And after I'd reset all of reality to where it was before my meddling with the unwritten laws of the universe had shattered all notions of causality in this space-time continuum, I'd post about my experiences on The Escapist's forums in order to warn any other would-be godlings against seeking the fate of facing the cold, brutal insanity of an entire universe at their beck and call.
Also, my genitalia would be suspiciously larger since before this topic's creation.
