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                    [Title] => The wild sleep chase
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I can’t sleep.


I try everything. I count sheep. One. Two. Three. Four thousand. After that I stop. My mind reels at the significance of owning a dream sheep farm. The money, the noise, all that sheep poop…


I feel like an inhabitant of Macondo in Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude who succumbs to the insomnia plague. Maybe if I wrote down the names and purposes of the things in my apartment I would get a good night’s sleep. For example:


                    [DatePublished] => 2005-10-21 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 133579
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1804862
                    [AuthorName] => Igan D’Bayan
                    [SectionName] => Young Star
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CALIFORNIAN RANDY GARDNER

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                    [Title] => The wild sleep chase
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I can’t sleep.


I try everything. I count sheep. One. Two. Three. Four thousand. After that I stop. My mind reels at the significance of owning a dream sheep farm. The money, the noise, all that sheep poop…


I feel like an inhabitant of Macondo in Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude who succumbs to the insomnia plague. Maybe if I wrote down the names and purposes of the things in my apartment I would get a good night’s sleep. For example:


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                    [ColumnID] => 133579
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The wild sleep chase

By Igan D’Bayan | October 21, 2005 - 12:00am

I can’t sleep. I try everything. I count sheep. One. Two. Three. Four thousand. After that I stop. My mind reels at the significance of owning a dream sheep farm. The money, the noise, all that sheep poop… I...

Young Star