Every morning I get up and anxiously think, “What am I going to write about on Frankly Curious?” And this morning was no different. There are a few things on my mind. I’d like to counter this reasonable sounding but wrong idea that raising the minimum wage will hurt job growth. And I’d like to discuss just how pathetic it is that the Republican great white hope is someone of such limited skills as Marco Rubio. And I’d even like to highlight how much it says about the Democratic Party that no one thinks it of particular note that Obama gave a great State of the Union address. But something else is on my mind right now.

Each morning, I start my day with a nice cup of tea. I got into this in graduate school when I lived with the Wild siblings, a couple from England who taught me how to drink far too much alcohol and just the right amount of tea. In particular, I remember Straford explain to me that the reason there were so many more Irish pubs than English pubs in America is because most of the English in America came here because they wanted to leave England. There is at least something to that. A lot of Irish people I know have fairly sketchy backgrounds.

There is something very relaxing about sitting in the cold morning drinking a nice cup of tea. No one is talking to me. There are no demands on me. I can sip my tea while I read Greg Sargent or Jonathan Chait. And that means, by the end of the cup, I’m ready to start ranting about important matters of state.

Speaking of which: my tea is almost done. Gotta go!