I got sufficiently focused to feed the cats, but the inevitable disorientation of displaced sleep lingers. The still-bare trees are casting their moon-induced shadows across the back lawn and up the wall of the house, but at least they have let go of the roof. It's all very eerie, and I'd rather the disruption hadn't happened, but there it is.
As I'll be muddled for the next few hours there's no point in trying to explain anything to myself. It would be a stupid explanation and wouldn't make any sense if I later read it. Mere oblique description will have to be sufficient. Looking into my brain right now is like watching clothes tumble in a dryer in a laundromat in Beaumont Texas in 1959. Whatever the hell that means.
In this state watching television is about the only thing that doesn't tax my brain. I'm not even going to try to figured out what to have for the dinner I missed. I'm not especially hungry anyway. Perhaps I devoured a cat in my sleep. If I get hungry sometime tonight I can always make some popcorn. Or maybe I'll get lucky and go back to sleep and won't have to deal with anything until tomorrow.