Staring Into The Abyss? Try Adding Milk…

This is the time of year that I drink tea. I’m doing it right now. I’m drinking tea. Not some sort of beatnik tea, mind you: normal, sane, English Breakfast tea. The kind of tea the mayor drinks. The kind of tea admirals and women who work in factories drink. This is a tea for the do-ers. This is a tea for a hands-on life. This isn’t a tea that is supposed to inspire you, or make you calm, or give you better skin, this is a tea that is supposed to go in your mouth and emerge victorious as piss sometime later–that’s what this tea does. This tea says ‘Thank you, that was lovely; we’ll have to do this again sometime,‘ as it makes its exit. No sentimental goodbyes, no emotional hangups. This is not a tea that gets attached. This is a tea that knows when to take a bow.

What makes me drink tea once a year? Probably the cold, unrelenting, dark and damp of a northern european Winter. Probably the loneliness that sets in as the warmth of Christmas pulls away to reveal the leftovers of turkey and unemployment; the absence of a relationship (which in March we will resume calling the abundance of freedom)  which–for now–feels like nothing less than a hazard to my health.
It’s not exactly that I’m lonely…


There is no food in the den and bear’s blubber will only go so far; but it’s so cold bear doesn’t want to leave the den. If bear had a companion bear then the den would be warmed by the warmth of two warm bears, and bears could take turns going out into the cold to bring food back to the den. Not to mention the fact that–in cases of extreme bad weather outside–bear could always kill and eat companion bear.


I wonder how many bears shack up each winter, just for the grub & blubber? Ah, but the bears will break your heart if they don’t eat you first!  Better stick with the tea.

I plan on drinking tea no later than mid-February, at which time I will make a renewed pledge to a monogamous relationship with coffee. But for now it’s cold and dark, and coffee has a headache. When it comes to my long, dark afternoon of the soul, I don’t know about you–but I take tea with my lumps.


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2 Comments on “Staring Into The Abyss? Try Adding Milk…”

  1. Contributing Factor Says:

    At the teddy-bears’ picnic, bears drank tea.

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