I wake up when my alarm goes off at 6am this morning. I kick my feet over the edge of the bed and step down on something strange that is definitely not the floor. I look down. My dumbbells. What are they doing out here? Was I exercising in my sleep? "Hmph." I kick them back under the bed where they belong. Along with an old banana peel and an empty cake box.
I throw on my robe and slippers and shuffle out toward the kitchen, passing by Baby Jesus and his pals in the nativity scene that I still haven't put away since Christmas. I wave.
I glance over at the Christmas tree...needles scattered in a pretty round carpet around the base. I consider (briefly) getting my act together and throwing it away before I start a fire from the friction of my shuffling slippers one morning. Instead, I yawn and turn away. I do not see the Christmas decorations. Reality is what I make of it. Mind over matter.