A new morning dawns. It's 08:30 and I'm getting on with life. Sleepy sluree slumbers softly in my bed while I endeavour to get some good hunting done. Unlike Jim, I don't have any wonderful "this morning's coffee" (or perogies?) musings ... but wait - there may be tea that I can make.

Sounds of kitchen raiding, cupboards rattled, the tap runs. The steady low hiss of water set to boil. The aroma of the grey earl. Where-oh-where is the teapot? More cupboards, a sigh of resignation. Two cups on the counter, a splash of milk, a dab of sugar. All is in readiness. A liquid rumble signifies that the final element is ready. The concoction is carefully mixed; each ingredient careful portioned.

And finally, a long, slow slurp of satisfaction. Ahhhhh.

Now a full hour behind schedule (oh yeah, didn't I mention I had to read the regular round of blogs before posting my own?), I am ready to get on with things with a quiet vengeance. Perhaps I should have exercised and showered prior to the tea, because all I can think of now is a peaceful and unfrantic morning. Somehow, I'll have to find a compromise.

It is Wednesday, the beginning of my fourth week of joblessness.