the roar of the cream-of-wheat, the smell of the crowd

7:45 AM. I woke up this morning to the siren of my all-in-one iPod dock/ alarm clock. I swiftly and sluggishly dropped myself to the ground out of my bunked bed. The alarm gets louder and louder to the point where it is absolutely unbearable. The sound scares me, so every morning I wake up in a panic to turn it off. This morning I decided the bed was too high to climb back into. Half asleep, I rolled into pajama pants and a "Missouri State" hoodie. Normally I am against wearing spirit wear from school other than yours. There is something rude about it. However, it was too fucking early for me to really give a shit. I grabbed my ID and left the room before having second thoughts about staying awake. By the time I was at the elevator, I was awake. I pressed the "down" button and looked out the twelfth story window. The ground was covered with powdered sugar snow.
Gries breakfast is warm, like the sun on a summer morning. The service is sloppy, though. I usually get anything with liquid consistency on a plate by itself. This morning I decided to just get my eggs and pancakes on the same plate. The server placed the pancakes hastily on the plate, smothered them in copious amounts of syrup, and then placed my eggs in a lake of syrup. My food took up a quarter of the plate.... why? My will to be annoyed does not kick in until 9 PM, so I just walked away unfazed. I got a bowl of cream-of-wheat. I asked for brown sugar & raisins and only received brown sugar. Then I got my OJ and sat down. The plate of food was forgettable, but the cream-of-wheat was welcoming.
Cream-of-Wheat, with its marketing aimed to African-Americans, is my new favorite breakfast food. It's texture awakens your brain, enticing you to wonder how it is processed. The taste is so bland w/o the help of sugars. C-o-Dub's warmth is so inviting, I could eat bowl after bowl.
My second plate of food was biscuits and gravy with bacon on the side. The bacon was beautiful. It was crispy and red. It dripped with grease. After taking a bite, however, I realized that beauty is only skin deep... or muscle deep.
I went back to my room, a cup of coffee in hand; watched the news, put on warm clothes, and went to class. En route to Music Theory I, I pass numerous statues. Normally, they seem to boast supreme health. Today, they looked sad. All of them were hunched over and holding themselves, as if cold. Their gazes seemed empty, and they were covered in snow. I thought, "They should eat some Cream-of-Wheat."