It's nice to see a friend first thing--and no new silver hairs if lucky. A good time to set goals for the day too. Some say by staring into the mirror a long while one's past life faces may appear. Don't know about that, suppose the reflected visages could be welcoming or something decidedly not. Pallavi, your autobiography of the mirror sounds fascinating but you may want to read others hubs first and have them come to your site and read it then.
I stare at it and think, "Good lord, if I gain any more weight, Greenpeace is going to come in here and try to roll me back into the surf." Usually after that I think, "Are my eyes puffy?" I lean in close, "Hmm, yeah, they're puffy. I need to go to bed earlier or drink less. Maybe both. I look like sh—." After dabbing fingers at the folds of unrest beneath those tired orbs of mine, I usually sigh, wonder if my teeth are yellowing with age, then prepare to head downstairs where I write stories of fantasy, tales of perfect people who vanquish inequity and slay monsters of supreme physical condition, which I then sell to imperfect folks like myself to pay my way through life. The last thing I see as I walk out of the bathroom is my smile, knowing that, at the end of all that, I'll have drinks with my wife in the driveway before it all begins again.