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Tag Archives: tea

Writing, tea, and how to beat insomnia

Remember how way back when on my last post I talked about how busy I had become? Made excuses about not blogging because of how much stuff I do? Implied that the world around me would implode if I added anything else to my to-do list?

So I started NaNoWriMo again.

Only my second year taking on this daunting challenge, and I’m already behind. It makes me sort of glad the word count widget isn’t running yet, because then the whole internet could see just how much I’m not writing. I don’t know which one is more shameful: complaining about how busy one is and then adding more onto that pile, or voluntarily adding to the pile with things you end up not doing in the end.

All in a day's not-worked

But no! I refuse to sit down and be lazy! This novel will get written~! (And maybe even shared this time around. Who knows. I may find some bravery in me yet.)

If I schedule things correctly, I should be able to complete my grown-up-person obligations (school, work, teaching) and then somehow cram in enough time for the symptoms of my peter-pan-syndrome (dallying in novel writing and making rubber cement balls). Pumping myself full of caffeinated tea to fulfill this schedule can only bring positive consequences. And build character!

This brings me to a surprisingly obvious fact about insomnia I just learned: if you act busy enough to forget the fact you can’t sleep, it’s basically as if you tore down the walls that divide the week and have one huge 150 hour work day with an 18 hour sleep marathon at the end. You’ve ignored sleep for so long that it comes crawling back to you like a neglected spouse who just wants to cuddle.  That, my friends, is productivity.

It is also why I need to buy a new tea pot and restock my Earl Grey. Donations will be accepted with a mad grin.

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Posted by on November 4, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Simple goodness

Tea is good.

Tea is good when it’s hot.

Tea is good when it’s hot and warming up your hands.

Tea is good when it’s hot and warming up your hands so you can go make more tea later.

Now for the 10 seconds that you were reading those words and staring at the picture, did you worry about the economy? The political situation of the world? Did you fret about how expensive your groceries were getting or just how much money you’re going to be needing to use on your heating bills this season? For one second did terrorists or racists or all out bigots hack your mind? Were they followed by groping TSA agents?

No. You were thinking about tea. And all its hot, hand warming goodness.

Wasn’t that a simple way to make life awesome?

Sure, it only lasted a few seconds, and now you’re probably thinking about the economy and groceries and heating bills and terrorists and airport pat downs. But at the end of the day (or in the middle, the day isn’t picky) you can always just zone off into the simple world of hot tea or a good book or a mind numbing video game. Or all three at once!

Just make sure the tea isn’t too hot for when you spill it all over your lap in excitement at beating a level… that is all.

 
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Posted by on December 4, 2010 in Uncategorized

 

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Songbirds

Looking through my journal I find an entry dated back in  April at 4 in the morning. Apparently I had been procrastinating all night and just recently started working on what was due that day. Behold, a glimpse into the madness that is my mind:

 

One of the most frightening sounds ever carried through the air is the chirp chirp chirping of birds in the morning. That early morning bugle, the war cry of the sky, as menacing fluffs of blue, brown and yellow fill the world with their malicious intent to call upon the morning. The curtains are still drawn and light is still hours away, and yet as if possessed by some unholy demon these colorful minions begin their dawn assault all at once on some psychic cue. Fear shudders through my strained caffeinated heart as I realize that these hell-spawn are drawing out master Helios, bringing my deadline that much closer to fruition. All night, like many nights before, I dawdled through the ticking hours with hardly any notice and skipped along the internet highway, so now like some blaring prison watchtower the birds slam the reality in my face: that I have yet again wasted another potential night of sleep. Cruel, cruel fiends. My task incomplete, my cup empty of tea, and the slow painful truth sinking in with every high pitched tweet. Game well played, my nemeses, game well played.

 
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Posted by on November 21, 2010 in Uncategorized

 

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