My bladder thumps painfully, waking me from a preferable dream. It's a daily alert that I will avoid responsibilities, grief, and guilt. I keep my eyes shut. I don’t want any indication of the time. Regardless, I receive it as I roll over, feeling the vacancy where my husband slept. I adjust my body by kicking my legs, disturbing the Frenchie. He circles the spot, one, two, three times, before settling among covers.