The worst thing about hitting a deer is the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing you can do to not hit the deer.
How was your weekend? Mine was… well, long and full of heartache. I decided to launch Fallout this weekend, without stopping to think about the fact that no one ever buys a book on the 4th of July. So, the incredible lack of sales has really taken its toll on my psyche. I spent a lot of the weekend refreshing my KDP sales page and wondering why no one was interested. The free promotion of Choices did pretty well, but it gave me no momentum through to Fallout. Which, c’est la vie.
I figured out that in order to keep my mind off of the sales (or lack thereof) I needed to be away from the home. I needed to get away from internet. I needed a distraction.
I did what I always do in these situations. I went for a drive.
I actually went for several. It was one particular drive, late Saturday night, that brought my life to a screeching halt.
I hit a deer.
I’m okay. I wasn’t hurt. The worst I got was a series of small cuts from a spray of shattered glass that used to be my driver’s side window. The deer… not so lucky.
My car? Only slightly luckier than the deer.
It was about a quarter after ten on Saturday night, which in Montana, isn’t quite sundown yet. I was driving down a back highway. I was driving under the speed limit, which is fortunate. This guy, and I don’t have any pictures of him, was just standing beside the road. I saw him. He saw me. We had a moment. Then, he just jumped up onto the road, right in front of my car.
I don’t know if there is some sort of natural “hop into traffic” instinct that deer possess. It certainly seems that way, but I don’t think that’s what caused this incident.
I think this particular deer was suicidal.
Seriously. He saw me coming. I saw him seeing me coming. He just jumped out into a moving car.
He used me to end his miserable deer life.
That’s what I keep telling myself anyway….
Now. I’m waiting for my insurance company to call me. I imagine there were a lot of deer related incidents this past weekend. They’re probably pretty busy. But, until they do, I’m ride-less. No driving for me. No exploration of the state.
No distraction from the gut-wrenching sense of failure that constantly gnaws at my soul.
Oh, well. C’est la Vie.