Yes, suspense-addled readers, it was my dear Mom who sent the box o'shrooms for my birthday. Those who correctly bet on "Nancy" may now collect their winnings.
Not much else to report on my new career as a mushroom farmer, as the fungi in question are still sitting in the box, waiting to mature. I fear that they've reached the "angry teen" stage, as I'm hearing the unmistakable sounds of mushroom punk blaring from the box.
Stay tuned for the grand opening, and for the subsequent announcement that I've cast off my business casual yoke, bolted from my cubicle, and embraced a simpler life on the land, raising only the finest free-range fungi.
Or, I'll end up with a smelly box of dirt. Place your bets...