Criminal Jurisprudence in the A.M.

Woke early to fill my mind with horrible stories from my Crim textbook. I'm hungry. It's cold and dark and wet. The bodega across the street has been shuttered for a week. My dog continues to not recover from a mysterious, unknowable, potentially bankrupting spinal injury and cannot move and whines periodically when he tires of staring into the ether from his square of foam. My girlfriend is swaddled in sheets, baffled in goose down, exposed only at the top of her head. My body yearns for my bed. It's one of those languorous fall mornings that make you feel pulled out like a taffy. I'm in love with it all.