Insomnia

One of the crappy things about home recording, at least for me, is the resulting insomnia.

Last night, after having my latest stab at recording the solo for Diving Duck Blues I lay awake in bed, the background riff looping over and over in my head. Try as I might I couldn't shift it from my brain. I could not drift off.

Then, for no apparent reason, Oscar the cat started to howl. Sometimes he sits by the bed at night and mews gently as if to politely ask "Are you awake, Daddy? Do you want to play?" This was not such a sound. This was a full on feline battle cry. I swung my legs over onto the floor and gestured for him to approach. He did. Slipping past my welcoming hands he made a b-line for my ankle and sunk his teeth in. Suffice to say that for the next hour he waged a full-on war against me. Waterboarding? Pah. Nothing on Oscy. No appendage was safe. I emerged from the melee bloody and smelling of cat spit. Eventually I managed to get enough of a grip on the ferocious moggy to manoeuvre him into the bathroom and close the door. The howling started again, but at least the bloodshed was over.

I lay back down, more exhausted than before. A familiar strain of Diving Duck Blues emerged in my brain. D'Oh.

Think of another song... think of another song... Anything... Anything...

Erm... EXCUSE ME? WHAT?

[Thunk]

Tim. Still snoring. Had kicked me out of bed. I pushed my way back in.

No, no, no, no, NOOOOO!

[Thunk]

Oscar howled louder. My blood boiled. I needed sleep. I wanted sleep. WHY WON'T YOU LET ME SLEEP?!?!?!

Making my way downstairs I set up camp on the couch. Lay back. Relax...

FRIKKIN' DIVING DUCK BLUES. AGAIN!

Think of something else. Think of something else. But what?

Ah, I'd caught a snippet of the Grammys, featuring the Black Eyed Peas performing "Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night" (or whatever the song's called). That'll work. That's catchy. Yes, YES! It's working.

An hour later my mind was still churning. I'd merely replaced one catchy riff with another, catchier one. I was doomed.