Every morning I wake up at the sound of my alarm clock blaring through the iPhone speakers. It’s like a World War 2 siren and practically launches me from my bed in a slap of fright.
I roll around for a few moments and several snoozes before firmly planting my feet on the ground and affirming that today will be a good day.
No matter what life throws at me, I can handle it. I say that to myself as I head into the bathroom to place my contacts in my crusted shut eyes.
As I walk out of the John I pat my buddy Cooper on his head as he shows no signs of moving from his comfort. He’s a lazy dog who knows how to embrace the joy of being comfortable.
Walking down the hallway towards the kitchen I try to silently glide past my daughter’s bedroom to not wake her, if I do it’s sure to piss off my wife who is holding onto the few moments of rest she has left.
The kitchen is a wonderful place that glows in the early morning when all else is quietly living. The coffee calls my name and still like a zombie, I walk over to the Keurig machine and brew up some open eye.
That’s my morning.
It’s mundane and nearly repetitive each day.
When you think about it, it seems boring, but when you look closely you can see the beauty and the extreme joy there is to be alive.
The first moments this day has of my special powers.
For when I walk out the front door, nothing will stop me!