WANTED: DEMONIC JASMINE TEA. HIGHLY DANGEROUS.

Oh, jasmine tea that I drank so much of last night at the Chinese restaurant. You were so tasty and so innocuous, in your strangely expensive way, your secretly potent leaves hidden in a white pouch, steeping in the authentic-y looking black iron teapot.

Where did it go wrong? Perhaps it was at 2:30 am, when I was doggedly transferring and reviewing notes to my outline, and I felt strangely awake. Or perhaps it was at 4 am, when, wired as all hell, I tried to go to sleep, knowing that I had to buckle down and work hard upon waking, and yet, when I I tried to lie down and go to sleep, you made me toss the covers aside in annoyance and caffeinated exasperation at 4:30 and get up and review the last week of capital punishment class until 6 am. Seeing the sky lighten and turn a pretty deep blue was not so fun, jasmine tea. Evil, evil, jasmine tea.