how can it be that i have still not gotten used to waking up in the morning?!? i feel as if i hadn't slept at all.
part of my morning ritual is brewing a large pot of tea, and i am almost done with the current tin. i suppose i'll be courageous and see what's the tea shop on 16th st like. strangely, i like using chais as a benchmark on my scale of tea shop infatuation. maybe i should use matcha instead?
i've been cold brewing jasmine tea for the past few weeks and it is WAY better than hot jasmine--mostly because i find that i only have it hot at restaurants. restaurants either 1) use shitty bagged tea or 2) use looseleaf in a pot and it (inevitably) oversteeps. the batch in the fridge right now is a third steeping and it is fragrant, but i taste it more than just smell it. the first steeping was very sharp when it hit your palette, and was potent through; it lwas without the bitterness of the inevitable oversteeping i associate with jasmine. my third steeping is, i don't know, fucking fucking amazing.
i think we escaped friday the 13th without serious incident. in fact, it was an amazingly productive day for me: sorted clothes, cleaned the bedroom, rearranged some plants, trashed a fair bit of useless things, scrubbed the inside of my vanity, watered that dratted orchid. there was a near miss, though, with husband, fat cat, expensive textbook, way more expensive medical imaging tower, and some liquid. fat cat jumps on husband's lap, husband pushes cat away, cat claws expensive book, knocks over liquid onto tower. no claw marks on tower, no liquid insided the tower. lucky.
i am so out of it, i'm forgetting to think in complete sentences. i want a nap, but i'll just have more tea.