Thought #1: I’m not very good at sleeping. Subsequently, I often wish there was a switch I could flick to turn my mind off and put myself to sleep.
But then, at 2am last night, I had the horrifying realisation that if I had to flick a switch to make my brain stop thinking and go to sleep, correlatively I’d have to flick it back again in order to wake up. And I wouldn’t be able to do so, because my thinking mind would be shut down and asleep, and therefore unable to turn itself back on at the switch. So I’d never wake up.
That realisation kept me tossing and turning until 3am.
Thought #2: As I’ve already mentioned to my favourite glowingly-pregnant lady, Robyn, whenever I see a Really Tall Person I think that, if I were their mother, I’d find it hard to believe that the Really Tall Person ever fit inside me.
But then again, sometimes I think about how much chocolate and peanut butter I’ve eaten in one afternoon, and I’m not quite sure how that all fit inside me either.
Thought #3: I’ve baked sweet things ever since I was a wee lass, and so I know that it’s not at all hard to whip up a tasty sweet treat. Then why oh why have I been subjected to two bland and sad-face-making restaurant desserts lately?
An Open Letter to a Caramelised Passionfruit Tart with Pina Colada Sorbet
Dear Pina Colada Sorbet: If you call yourself pina colada-flavoured, try not to taste like the luke-warm tropical fruit poppas I used to drink in primary school. Those poppas were gross.
Dear Caramelised Passionfruit Tart: Try to taste like passionfruit, not just sugar. Because at the moment, everything about you is a lie.
Dear Caramelised Passionfruit Tart Crust: Don’t be flaccid.
Dear Passionfruit Syrup On The Plate: Thank you for tasting like passionfruit. But next time, let’s try to be fresh, not out of a can, yes? My tongue tingled in the not-fun way because of your preservatives.
Dear Toasted Coconut Shards: Thank you for being the one fresh-tasting component of this dessert. You might just be responsible for restarting my coconut appreciation.
An Open Letter to a Dark Chocolate Pannacotta with Strawberries and Vanilla Sauce
Dear Dark Chocolate Pannacotta: Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t pannacottas supposed to be rather delicate, wobbly, ethereal, and just barely holding together? You, my dear, were so dense that I had to take a breather when my spoon was halfway through you, just so I could collect my strength for the final push.
In fact, you were so dense that you probably think Home and Away is an accurate reflection of Australian life. (I, for one, don’t think it’s likely that a girl would elope with the man who raped her sister, soon after she had a brief fling with her half-brother. But maybe that’s just me.)
Don’t try to deny it, Dark Chocolate Pannacotta. I have photo evidence (above) showing the exact point at which the effort of pushing through your stiffness became too much for my spoon.
Also, I know chocolate. I particularly know dark chocolate. You, my dear non-pannacotta, were mildly cocoa-based at best.
Dear Strawberry: You were tasty. Much appreciated.
Thought #4: I’m watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice with my mum right now, and just discovered that Dawn from The (original UK) Office is in it. This excited me but, of course, so did picking out the pistachios from the bag of mixed nuts on my parents’ counter. (Sorry Mum and Dad. I left you the almonds and brazil nuts, if that counts for anything.)
Wait, that wasn’t really a thought, was it? That was more of a babble.
I think I’ll stop now.
Question Time: What sudden thoughts or concerns have you found yourself pondering lately?