10:02 a.m. I hate tea. The bitterness forces me to make this face constantly. I’m usually a coffee drinker, content to swig about two cups a day. Not that I have a problem or anything. So I volunteered to be the tea control. A martyr for the cause!
My co-workers just called me Lady Sybil from Downton Abby because I didn’t know how to make a cup of tea. Pish posh.
(MORE: Teapuccino, Anyone? How Argo Got Americans to Drink Tea)
2:10 p.m.: I can do this. Look at me, sipping black tea like a pro! I’m chugging as I type tweets and respond to emails in record time! Maybe I’ll switch to tea entirely! Just think of all the money I’ll save. This is going to work. I’m going to be so healthy.
4:18 p.m.: Abort mission. I repeat: Abort mission. Who thought of this? I just hit a giant wall. One cup of black tea does not a equal the amount of caffeine I’m used to. I don’t like this.
Lasting impression: I’m furtively nibbling an emergency Snickers bar that I bought at a Duane Reade. Experiment fail.