TRICIA'S TIDBITS

I feel like I'm cheating. Cheating on my morning cup of coffee. I know it sounds odd. See, I really love coffee. I love the way it smells when you grind it, I love the way it smells when you brew it, I love the way it smells when you pour it into a coffee mug. So why has my head suddenly been turned by another? Why have I fallen in love with tea?
I mean, I've always liked tea. Flavored teas, iced tea, mint tea when my tummy is gurgly. But ever since I got sick with this upper respiratory infection from hell, I've pushed aside my beloved cup of coffee for English breakfast tea.
I can't help it, it's delicious. It makes my throat feel better like coffee never could. When I get into the station around 4ish in the morning, I can't wait to drop a tea bag into my mug and fill it up with hot, steaming water. And there's a pot of coffee, staring at me, wondering what it all went wrong between us.
This morning, I forgot tea bags. My throat got scratchier just thinking about how long the morning would be without my tea fix.
Well, there's always coffee, I thought to myself as I walked down the long hallway to the station kitchen. I poured the jet black liquid into my cup, added a decent slug of milk and a couple of teaspoons of sugar and took a tentative sip. It tasted delicious, just like I remembered. I drank a couple of cups this morning and got through the show.
And then I came home, and put a dozen tea bags in my backpack.
I know it's wrong, but I can't help myself.