Executive dysfunction- a gothic horror in short form

 That moment when you know you need tea - but you don't know what kind you're in the mood for - and so you stare into the vast depths of your tea cupboard and are suddenly intimidated by your own collection.  The bags and tins and boxes stare back at you and each label your eyes read seem to make a new demand.  "I should be the one you choose!" they each state to you with absolute confidence.  "I am the blend - the only blend that can satisfy!"... and yet two tins over you read a new name and the same claim is made with the same confidence.

Bergamot, lavender, clove, and ginger all vie for dominance in your craving centers even though you haven't even decided if it's white, green, oolong or black that calls loudest to you this day.  And so, the jumbled cacophony created from the clashing voices of Russian Caravan, Victorian Chai, Ginger Turmeric, Yorkshire Gold, Dragon Pearl, Genmai and so many others reaches up to you from the shelves to fray at your nerves so badly that you have no choice but to close the cupboard to shut out the weight of noise behind the choice.

But the need is still there.... and now you can only see the Keurig with its mocking k-cups of bitter coffee that you know your empty stomach can't handle.

...... empty stomach..... you should eat..... but you don't know what sort of food you're in the mood for............