Blogger’s note: This is a companion piece. To read it’s sibling for further understanding first, go HERE.
Sunday was to be the day.
The day that I would change out one computer to a newer one. That didn’t go quite as planned. Inevitably, I stuck with the old one to get work done. I had two blogs I wanted to write: one revolving around tea and job hunting, the other…a- about the complacency of the porn industry, put as a nursery rhyme. Yes, really.
However, the only writing I ended up finishing was a tea review for a fabulous Turzum estate Darjeeling put out by Thunderbolt Tea. Seriously, it was perfect. Put simply, it was like a Yunnan Jin Cha and a Taiwanese Ruby 18 made sweet-sweet love and produced a cocoa-flavored Indian offspring. (Er…I left that out of the actual review.) I had three pints of the stuff over the course of the day, and it remained strong throughout each steep – even in terms of caffeine.
After giving up on one attempt with the new computer set-up, I hooked up the old one long enough to attend a “meet-up” of sorts. TeaGeek.net (aka. Michael J. Coffey) was hosting a meet-up via Google+’s “Hangout” function to discuss Dan Cong oolongs. I wanted to attend since a blog of mine on the very subject posted the week prior.
My first attempt to connect via phone succeeded, but the sound was garbled. Whole chunks of speech from the various participants simply didn’t show up. To correct this, I also connected on my computer. However, this created an echo effect toward the other members in the Hangout. I tried to mute my phone, but the volume wouldn’t turn off all the way. To correct this little fluke, I logged off and tried to again. My phone registered the Hangout as having ended. That was simply not the case since my computer was still logged in! I gave it at least ten tried before finally giving up.
I was pissed. Tech fail after tech fail had me all red-faced and gritted teeth. I needed an outlet, something to act as meditation. But I couldn’t relax, the three pints of strong Darjeeling wouldn’t let me. Movement, something that required movement!
I know! I thought to myself. I’ll clean the f**king house. ALL of it!
I vacuumed the living room, emptied the dishwasher, dried and folded towels, took out the trash, swept around the litter box, and cleared off the kitchen counters. Once all that was done, I braved my room. My private man-space hadn’t been gutted and cleaned since…uh…The Before Time. Actually, in real terms, not since the mate de coca/flea plague incident of 2010. So, two years. Wow.
Through fits of curses and grunts – manly high-pitched grunts, mind you – I raised the bed, took out old boxes, washed the sheets/comforter, tossed old files, and removed old shoes. How so much stuff had accumulated in my ever-so-small space was beyond me. Over the course of three hours-to-four hours, I practically deloused the place. Hopped up on Darjeeling-fueled determination.
By the time I was finished, I looked at the clock. 7PM. I hadn’t even showered or changed out of my pajamas. That and I had to pick up my brother/roommate and his girlfriend from the airport. I did one last vacuum-run of the kitchen, checked on laundry, then rushed into the bathroom like a military cadet. I was out the door in fifteen minutes. At the airport in twenty. (It was usually a thirty-minute drive.)
All tasks completed, and bad mood abated, I returned to my comfy, pajama-clad self. The thought entered my head to make a Joy’s Teaspoon Lemon Zest latte. I whipped out my IKEA-made milk-frother, but promptly remembered that it had no batteries. I asked my brother for some AAs…and found they didn’t fit. I asked for AAAs. Those were too small. My brother gave it a try with the AAs – he fit ‘em in perfectly.
I gave up on technology for the night, settling in with a teabag of mint instead.
jopj
I think what amazes me most of all about teatra.ders is that many times we go through similar experiences at the same time. I just got done with my “apt transformation” to the point where I have created my “tea office” and a special “take a break spot” more info to follow. So sorry you had tech issues as they are most frustrating. Sounds like you handled it well “Darjeeling”!
lazyliteratus
I demand pics of the apartment transformation! Or at least a blog on the subject. Glad I wasn’t the only one who put their fuel to the test.
Robert Godden
I read this and the companion piece this morning in too much of a hurry to comment. But I thought the moral of the story was “Always drink good Darjeelings” .
Amen to that.
lazyliteratus
Yep, that was basically the main moral of the story. That and I suck at technology. Amen.
Jackie
There is a reason for everything. The reason you didn’t get into the hangout was because brother had had enough. Of the messy rooms, and the dirty kitchen. The reason he’d had enough – so unlike him of course – was his girls’ ultimatum. “Either the trash piles go, or I do.” she murmured while rubbing his back.
Bro knows what side his back’s scratched on, so he took a real close look at you. And your phone. And your laptop. And while you were happily snoring in your PJ’s one night, he altered a thing or two, just before boarding the flight.
No tech, no play – you made his day.
The lady’s happy, he’s happy, and you’re happy too.
I say – cheers, have another Darjeeling.
J.
lazyliteratus
You made that sound far more dramatic than I did. Bravo. Seriously!
Xavier
A new demonstration of the all mighty Murphy’s Laws (the poor guy never said anything about them)?
lazyliteratus
I never knew Murphy had multiple laws until Sunday.
iheartteas
LOL 🙂 I believe the lesson here is when you need motivation to get done what you really don’t like to do then drink, drink, drink, Darjeeling and a little fairy will temporarily take control of your body and the task will alias be done.
Moral of the story: Darjeeling Gives You Super Powers!
lazyliteratus
That is almost exactly what I think I was trying to get across. Although, I probably overdid it a bit.