Rory Gibson: The key to a good night’s sleep

Forget counting sheep or listening to meditation apps, Rory Gibson has worked out the best way to nod off.

On the rare occasions I can’t get to sleep in a timely manner, I have a method of forcing slumber’s hand which never fails.

There’s no counting of sheep or listening to meditation apps in my dream world. Nope, all I need to do to feel the balm of sleep’s sweet restoration is to imagine I’ve won the yourtown/RSL Art Union/Endeavour Foundation/Surf Lifesaving Foundation prize draw, all of which I buy tickets for.

For anyone unfamiliar with those lotteries, the first prize is usually a fabulous house or a block of flats in a waterfront location, sometimes with gold bars and a Porsche thrown in.

Inexplicably, grappling with the conundrum of whether I’d keep the prize home and rent it out, sell it for the cash or live in it myself puts me into a coma within minutes.

This is irrational, because I’ll never have to make the decision for real.

I’m one of those people who never wins anything. I could have bought one of those prize homes with the amount of money I’ve spent on tickets over the past 25 years.

Likewise Lotto. Dunno why I bother.

Columnist Rory Gibson says he’s never won a thing.

When I say I don’t win anything, that’s not entirely true. I play social golf to a hideous standard and occasionally jag a “nearest the pin”, by accident rather than design, and am presented with a new golf ball.

The sheer joy, the sense of wealth and contentment, that comes from that victory is totally out of whack given the prize is worth about $4.

But I’m not giving up. I am determined to experience the ecstasy of winning big - and that’s why I’ve joined the local bowls club.

I don’t play bowls, but every Friday night the bowlo puts on its Monster Meat Raffles where there’s more than 250 prizes of protein to be won. Any idiot should be able to win some chops.

Just once, I want to stride up to the front of the room and collect my prize, holding a meat tray aloft like a World Cup-winning captain, revelling in the looks of envy and disappointment from my opponents who will be busy ripping up losing tickets.

I wonder how I’ll cook it? Will they be beef or pork saus … zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.