Last night I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, trying to make as little noise as possible so that I wouldn’t prevent Karen from sleeping. Eventually I thought better of it, and decamped downstairs and flopped out the sofa bed.
For over an hour I lay there, my brain whirring and bouncing, constantly providing me with stimuli and imaginary matters to keep me awake. This often happens when I am a bit poorly. On more than one occasion, I remember seeing that there were new replies to a post of mine on an internet forum, so I had to check to see what they’d said. All of this was in my imagination, of course, but it was highly disruptive.
Eventually I took a short break, went to the toilet, had a glass of water, and told my brain to behave itself. I went back to bed and made a conscious effort to stop thinking. Apparently this worked.
But the reason why I put fingertips to keyboard is this: at some point during my ceaseless thrashing, my brain came up with an awesome band name. Or maybe it would be an album name. Either way, at the time it seemed like the best band name ever, and I would have switched the light on and written it down, but I felt that it would be counter-productive in the whole “getting to sleep” project.
This morning, I managed to remember the band name without too much head-scratching, which came as something of a surprise. Even more surprising, it still seems half-decent in the cold light of morning.
And what is this band name that you are teasingly withholding from us? I hear you say.
No Bears At All
Now I just have to figure out what it means.
*UPDATE: Google tells me that this phrase exists in a book called The Bears on Hemlock Mountain – maybe I picked it up subconsciously at some point? More likely, it’s just a coincidence.*
