I was lying awake at fuck o’clock the other morning (as
opposed to this morning when I gave up and got outta bed at 2.45am) trying to
figure out how I was going to get myself to sleep. First I tried reading.
Unfortunately reading about the childhood escapades of one of Australia’s most
well-known comediennes and laughing out loud every 5 minutes is hardly
conducive to sleep. Hot milk is disgusting and a sleeping tablet was not to be
thought of, given my 5am alarm. Then I turned to the old standard, counting
It was at this point that my brain began to sabotage me...
<lies really still, eyes closed, breathing evenly. Pictures a grassy meadow near a long bendy country road in sheep country. Silently begins counting slowly.>
Brain: Whatcha doin?
I’m trying to fall asleep.
Brain: <gigglesnort> REALLY?
Brain: Well you’re watching sheep jumping over the fence.
Yes, that’s right. Four.
Brain: Where are they going?
Brain: They’re escaping from the paddock.
I don’t know! They’re sheep! They’re just jumping over the fence!
Brain: Well it’s your concept. The only fence in it is the one next to that road.
OK, fine they’re jumping over that fence then. Five.
Brain: What if those sheep get hit by a car?
I don’t... what car?
Brain: You’ve made this realistic enough that some of these sheep have been branded and tagged. Some of them have tupping chalk marks. There are going to be cars and things on that road.
<Road train roars past on cue, thirty kilometres an hour in excess of the speed limit, barely missing a sheep grazing by the side of the now lethal-looking road>
Brain: Yeah... how do you feel now about your selfishness?
I’m only trying to go to sleep!
Brain: And now those sheep are going to die. And maybe people too.
Brain: You know how fast people drive on country roads. A full-grown sheep is going to seriously fuck up a sedan. With a family of four in it.
What are you saying?
Brain: ...Little Bridget just started ballet, too...
That’s not fair!
Brain: It’s your idea.
Maybe I could... find the farmer?
Brain: AWESOME idea. How are you going to do that? You’re miles from nowhere, in a sheep field, in the middle of the night in your Happy Ice Cream pyjamas.
I’ll call the police! They can find the farmer!
Brain: That’s ridiculous. You don’t have reception out here, you’re with Optus.
<whimpers> I want my mummy...
Brain: And they’d probably arrest you for sheep-rustling. Did you know you can be hanged for that?