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Return to Gratitude

Sunday morning came accompanied by my usual ritual; I open my eyes, wonder where I am because for a brief moment all is a blur, that is until my eyes gain focus and then in an instant I remember.  I reach for my cell phone to confirm the hour, stretch a bit, and then rise, but wait; I’m not alone.  Lying next to me is The Judge telling me I should have gotten up sooner, along with The Drill Sergeant who points at my stomach and pudgy arms demanding that I drop (in the voice of my son) and give him 10 push-ups, (I can’t even endure one) and The Victim who tells me to simply pull the cover over my eyes and go back to sleep.

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