Crazy Sleep Guy

I don't make a whole lot of sense right after I wake up. I could flesh that out with a list of times I've done something weird/freaked out/made a bizarre proclamation immediately after being awakened, but if I did that, I would be here until St. Crispin's Day. Really, I do it all the time. I do it so often, that if someone is going to be sleeping in the same room with me, I have to tell them, "Hey, if you wake me up and I happen to do something really crazy, just ignore it." Then the other person giggles a little, like they believe I'm joking but aren't quite sure, at which point I have to shrug and say, "It most likely won't be anything violent, but just watch it." Then the other person's eyes fill with fear, and they go barricade themselves in the bathroom.

I bring all of this up because I had an episode this morning. Around 7 this AM, a weird sound wakes me up. I'm not quite sure what is, but it sounds like a radio broadcast being played through some busted speakers right outside my window. I take a look through my window, see nothing, and attribute it to an act of God. I go back to sleep. A few minutes later, I hear the sound again. I check the window again, see nothing, but this time, I am annoyed and befuddled (annuddled) enough to put on some clothes so I can inspect my patio. As one might expect, no one had left a broken radio out on my patio. I head back inside and just a few seconds later, I hear it again. I go back out to the patio, and now I'm worked up enough to jump the railing so I can inspect my neighbors' porches for the source of the disturbance. The observer will note at this point how absolutely nothing good can come of this.

I live at the very edge of my apartment complex, so my patio is bordered by the wilderness. That does not deter me in hunting down the phantom stereo. I stomp through a bunch of mud, sticks, and gravel so I can make a complete round of the building and inspect everyone's patio. I came to my senses about halfway through and realized I had no idea what I was trying to accomplish. I felt like I had an obligation to my sleepy, insane self of 5 minutes previous though, so I continued with my investigation. It should come as no great surprise that I found nary a busted boombox. I came back to Powell Manor ready to light my room on fire in order to exorcise its demons, when I hear the sound again. This time, it strikes me that the noise sounds exactly like a fly trapped between my blinds and my window. I inspect the area in question, and sure enough, there is a fly trapped in there. I attempted to inspect his pockets in the impossible event that he'd be carrying around some broken speakers, but he was too quick for my shakedown. Some might say a fly getting stuck in my blinds is slightly more likely to occur than someone leaving a busted radio on my patio at 7 AM. To those people, I say that I do not play the odds.