Two days left before we leave for El Paso, and I'm pulling long hours, trying to finish up a mountain of work and make trip preparations. I hit the ground running this morning—shot off bleary-eyed to the track almost late for my walking date, and now I'm home again, about to put my nose again to the grindstone. Bran cereal, rice milk, banana. Rob filled my yellow sunshine kettle with water and made us both some herb tea. "What flavor do you want?" he asked. (I have an herb tea collection that could knock your Birks off. Yogi Tea is my favorite brand.) Agony. Some days little decisions like this are torturous. "I don't know! Eeny meeny miny mo?"
A little later when it was time for our morning study, Rob brought in two cups of Stress Relief—how appropriate. One of the fun things about Yogi Tea is that each tea bag comes with a fortune dangling from its string. Rob's steaming mug warmly reminded him that "Love is where compassion prevails and kindness rules." And what did my cup of Stress Relief say to me?
That's supposed to relieve my stress?