Mike Buzzelli is a stand-up comedian and published author. His book, "Below Average Genius" is a collection of essays culled from his weekly humor column here in the Observer-Reporter.

It’s a good day. I leapt out of bed this morning, feeling alive, energetic and ready to start a bright, new day.

I have no current injuries or ailments. To be honest, I’m surprised. I am a klutz, and it’s a rare thing that there’s not a Band-Aid anywhere on my person. I’d cross my fingers, but, if I cross them too hard, I might hurt myself.

I got dressed and everything fit right on the first try. I didn’t have to go back to the closet and reevaluate my choices.

My pants aren’t tight, which is highly unusual this time of year.

Side note: Last night I was sitting too close to a crystal dish filled with chocolate wrapped in red, green foil. If you dig under the couch cushions, you will probably find little, crumpled flags printed with the word “Hershey’s” on them. I can tell you, “I don’t know how they got there,” but it would be a lie.

But I digress, like I do. My pants fit, and my shirt is big, but not blousy.

I have a couple of oversized shirts that make me look like Maude Findlay scolding Mrs. Naugatuck for putting too much bleach in Walter’s underwear (Obscure Reference – the movie).

Conversely, I have a few shirts that are too small. These shirts make me look like Bruce Banner in mid-transformation. If I breathe too hard, I could bust out of them.

Recently, I had to retire one of my favorite shirts. When I was at the grocery store, I reached up to the top shelf to grab a jar of artichoke hearts, and my comfy shirt became a midriff.

I am not a cocker spaniel. Therefore, it was inappropriate to expose my belly to strangers. Said shirt is now in a box marked “Goodwill.”

I am wearing the Goldilocks shirt. It’s not too small and it’s not too big.

Even my hair looks good today. Most of my hair is going gray and jumping off. My hair is ghosting me. Rude! My head is locked in constant battle between the Grays and the Ghosts. The Ghosts are winning. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and see Zordon staring back at me (Obscure Reference – the sequel).

This morning, I said to a friend, “I looked in the mirror and didn’t hate the dude staring back at me.”

She said, “Oh my God! Who was staring back at you?!”

I should have said, “Do I need to explain how mirrors work?” Instead, I just gave her a sideways glance.

She responded with the long, “Ohhh.” It’s the kind of noise that sounds like air leaking out of a flat tire.

Looking in the mirror and being pleased with your appearance shouldn’t be a rare occurrence. Jumping out of bed and being ready to face the day should be a natural thing, even on a frigid December morning.

I’m going to get out there and make the most of it. I suggest you do the same.

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