And yes, I’m sick of the name Vin Diesel too. And the word meaningful. Don’t worry, there’s a slim chance that I’ll ever subject you to either word any time soon. Unless he makes a film which I am likely to watch, and I lose my thesaurus. So yeah…after a quick scan on Rotten Tomatoes it seems we’re pretty safe, then…(and don’t worry, I guard my Thesaurus with my life. So would you if you’d paid £35 for it).
The Vin-Diesel-style paragraph in question, deep manly voice optional, of course: (Massive points deducted if you’re reading this and wondering what happened in paragraphs1 and 2. In fact, go and slap yourself round the face, please.)
Some things you do in your life you do because you feel you have no choice. Other things are done because you have too much choice, your brain gets scrambled, and you end up picking one at random – playing Russian Roulette. Then there are the things in between which just inexplicably happen. The result of a reaction built on a vague series of events. With me, eight months ago, an event happened which was partly my decision, and partly down to necessity.
And that event, dear reader, was giving up tea. Completely. No more caffeine. No decaf either.
Breaking it right down 100%.
For at least one year.
For health reasons.
To make me feel better. To give me more energy.
Oh, the horror of it.
But before I go any further, allow me to demonstrate how crucial tea was to my every-day life.
Being a freelance writer, nobody tells me when to take a break. Cool, right? I can make tea when I wish, and, if I want to, even indulge myself in ITVs Loose Women while drinking several cups (where I always learn a great many things which always seem useful at the time, but are rarely suitable to be included in my clients articles).
And the thing was, I was a late-tea-developer, which in many ways made it even worse. Having found my beloved tea far later than most – at around the age of 18, when I should have been more concerned about getting girls and looking in the mirror and realising my short hair, combined with large nose, made me look horrendous – I had at least a decade’s worth of time to make up for. And make up for it I did!
I drank tea in the morning: 4 cups at least. I drank 2 at lunch-time, and in the afternoon…well, maths was quite literally never my strong-point, but I really did lose count. The eagle-eyed of you will notice how I didn’t state how many cups of tea I used to drink in the evening…
But anyway, the point is that when it came time to quit tea for good – replacing it with the awful-sounding “Peppermint Tea” – I was what you can only describe as highly dependant. Imagine whichever character Ewan McGregor played in Trainspotting crossed with one of the most irritating contestants in The Apprentice and you’ll come somewhere near seeing how my decision-making process was.
And to begin with, I won’t lie, it was…
Actually much easier than I thought! I was going to invent some unsettling story there, but in the end honesty seemed favourable. I mean, seriously it was easy, much too easy…and considering my history it made no sense.
OK, so the first day was tricky, but in the main it was the routine I missed more than the actual tea itself. That was what I had come to realise.
8 months on? I’m still on the Peppermint Tea and sometimes, I’m not sure, but I think I come close to enjoying it (even if after 5 cups your breath does actually smell alarmingly like stale wee…). And you know what? I don’t see me going back to my old ways any time soon. That’s right, my days as an addict are over. I’m nobody’s gimp, not anymore.
I’ll definitely drink regular tea again, there’s no way I’m staying off it forever completely, but the point is I’ve broken that habit.
And that? That makes me very happy indeed, because for once — to end it as Vin might — I realised that we own our habits. It’s our job to beat them and show them who’s the boss, you know.