Insomnia and mushrooms

I got my hair done for the first time since the coronapocalypse yesterday. It was also the longest amount of time I spent on public transport, and only the second time I’ve worn jeans. Weird does not even begin to describe it, although I did get accosted by a lady who wanted to chat about onions so that was refreshingly normal.

While my hairdresser worked her magic, she asked me if I was having trouble sleeping. I was slightly taken aback, but she laughed and said everyone she’d spoken to this week wasn’t sleeping very well. She’s got a pretty good excuse, being extremely pregnant and all, but whatever is affecting her other clients is definitely affecting me too.

I am very much suffering from overwhelm right now – Victoria is heading back into lockdown, my job is very much getting me down right now, and the Black Lives Matter movement is quite rightly making me confront my own biases (and those of people that I thought knew bettter).

So life on planet Earth is a lot right now. I don’t really know what to say about it all, except boost minority voices wherever you can, keep your head, and if all you do is make your bed before getting back into it, then that’s still an achievement, and well done.

My achievement: I voluntarily ate mushrooms.

Parents of fussy eaters take heart! When I was a kid, I thought sausages and tomato sauce was the height of cuisine and I didn’t want a bar of anything else. That changed when I grew up, (thankfully) and now I eat pretty much anything heading in my direction.

Mushrooms though, mushrooms were a hard pass. Wouldn’t go near them despite many a person telling me that I just hadn’t had them cooked properly. Absolutely no time for fungus, I was resolute.

But a couple of weeks ago, I got a veggie box delivered to my flat in a vague effort to try and stop living off takeaway and bottles of red wine. I was worried about a potential fungus situation, and when I opened the box my fears were realized. Nestled on top of the pile were two big fat portobello mushrooms. (At least I think they were, my knowledge of mushrooms begins and ends with ew).

For a week they sat in my fridge, and I’d look at them and make guilt ridden irritated noises. I was torn. I hate mushrooms, but I hate food waste. So, I put the word out on social media to find out what I should do with them, and then proceeded to ignore all the advice I was given.

I made this. I ate this. What a time to be alive.

That, my friend, is a mushroom stuffed with cream cheese, garlic, bacon and chives from the pot on my windowsill. And boy I’m not kidding about the garlic. But I’m not gonna lie, it was really tasty. And I’m actually really proud of myself.

2020 might be a total dumpster fire, but I discovered it is possible to make mushrooms delicious. I wonder if I can do the same thing with reality TV?

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