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| tea on the train |
But when I consider what I've done on automatic pilot, it's really quite remarkable. I preheated the flask, somehow measured out a reasonable amount of tea leaves. Then I steeped the tea while staring out the window. There was either the still dark sky or the coming sunrise to behold while I waited for the tea timer to bleat out that my dark brown nectar was ready.
Not to mention that I made it out the door and all the way to the train station without stopping somewhere and laying my head against a wall or down on the pavement. To say nothing of manoeuvring my way through the main train station with one foot still planted firmly in dreamland.
But suddenly there I am on the train with my trusty orange flask of tea. It's just tea, right? The most convenient way I've found to distribute caffeine to my blood stream.
I'm a relatively tolerant person and try to stay open to opinions and perspectives that I may otherwise disagree with, but this is anything but just tea.
Anything.
I think I might be awake by now.
There are so many days like this I can't keep count. Today I found myself on Chartres street with a cup of Japanese Bancha in hand. After A few sips I became fully aware and functioning.
ReplyDeletethis is me every day. i somehow manage to get myself, my daughter, and my son dressed and ready for the day, and then i get on the train and magically arrive in my office. tea drinking starts at my desk, then i finally wake up. I agree, that first pot is far more than 'just tea'.
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