Last night is a bit hazy, but I'm pretty sure I fell asleep before midnight. I recall waking up a few times, but never enough to turn off the television, which means I saw snatches of things that got jumbled together in my mind so that I now have a false memory of some rock band singing the news report.
The thing that finally woke me up about six o'clock in the dark morning was the sound of footsteps on my driveway. Loud, clopping steps like hobnailed boots, and in my dazed state I pictured storm troopers coming to steal stuff from my garage and expected to hear that rock band sing about it on the news.
Then I woke up enough to go turn on the porch light and look outside, but I saw nobody. It then dawned on me that nobody wears footgear that makes that sound anymore, least of all Nazi burglars, and it hit me that I had been visited by a deer. I haven't seen one in such a longtime that I was very sorry to have missed seeing this one.
And now I am going to go cobble together some sort of food-like substances and devour them mostly as an excuse to have a beer. It's a mild night again, and the frogs are singing in the stream vale, and I'll listen to them for while in lieu of television. Unless the sixteen hours I've been awake proves too much for me and I pass out on the couch again. Then another band singing the news most likely. Such a life.