i like to drink tea when i come in to the office. i drink at least two cups a day, which is probably not the healthiest habit.  to depend on the caffeine of black tea. but, oh well. 

i went up to c + e to get a teabag of english breakfast from rachael, and then proceeded to make tea in the break room near there.  so i pour the hot water (that break room happens to have the fastest water) and you know, am going to put milk and sugar in.  no sugar packets. okay, i’ll use the can of sugar, even though it’s not as easy to measure.  no spoons.  well scratch that, how can i measure how much sugar i use if there’s no spoons?    i  go down to the upstairs south breakroom, and put in my two sugar packets.  stirring it?  well, i have to use a knife.  no spoons there either, just a note in the drawer asking for them to put more spoons and less knives and forks. milk? there’s a partial jug of milk; at least there’s not none.  [i don’t think doing double negatives like that is gramatically correct. oh well.]

but now i sit at my desk in web marketing, drinking my very nice cup of tea.  thankfully every cup of tea doesn’t have this much drama attached to it. 

and this is why i’m glad that the coffee angels (who are also ninjas) clean and restock the breakrooms each wednesday.

disastrous escapade

at first, happily filling a water bottle, putting a lid on it, and sticking it in my bag.  going to gfa and mopping for 54 minutes.  come down to the cafe, sign out, and go over to my purse.  open it and realize that the water bottle soaked some things.  then i realize the true extent of the damage: not just a little water leaked out, but all.  the lid had opened, the damage was done.  everything in my purse was wet.  the gum was soggy,  the tissues now wet masses, the paper wet, the cough drops making everything sticky.  but, the journal only slightly damp with no damage sustained other than slight warping, the library book tom swift and his airship not wet at all, the plastic film camera only wet externally, and the digital camera wasn’t even there!  praise god.

and now, packing craziness.  houston and beyond.  decide: vintage luggage or practical black?