What if there were no cup?

After reading the paper, it was time to have the second cup of tea.To my surprise the first cup had waited patiently the entire time I read the paper to be drunk. And the water I had intended to pour into the electric water kettle waited as patiently next to it. (Patient water... is there such a thing?) I could not recall the thought that had pulled me away from the activity of drinking a cup of tea. At least there is a folded paper on the table letting me know that I finished reading today's New York Times. But did I really finish reading it? How much of the articles I read were actually read by me. How many were abandoned like the cup of tea on the kitchen counter, except that I will not have the intention to go back, open the page and look for the forgotten paragraphs, sentences, words. Now I could be really worried that this is the beginning of the end of my conscious life. I could perhaps really panic now and think that my brain is turning into something les spongy, more into something like the shell of a dead turtle or something. I think this has happened many times before though. I remember lamenting about the inability to retain this or that, about the inability to do one activity or the other. And then looking back at the marks left around that time, the animal I managed to be to my immediate outside world was relatively sane and actually in the process of growing a new skin perhaps. Being aware of odd perception adjustments could be a sign of falling apart, of course. I hope it is more simply a sign of massive change of day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute life. Positive change, hopefully. Growth is usually regarded as positive... wait, is it? universally? A lot has happened in the last few years. I never expected to be the person I am now. Not that I think that the journey is over, or that I am soon going to have to go back to wherever home might be. (Home home is here and now, of course.) I wonder what would happen if the me who was me about five years ago met with the me about five years from now, and if I were present at this conversation. Would we fight over that forgotten cup of tea? Or would one of us, without a word uttered, just punch one other one of us in the stomach? Five years ago... hmm... 2003? (Just checking the archives here... well... no real record.) okay... I guess I would warn myself to be a little more aware of what in heaven's name I was doing and think a bit more intensely about the consequences? But that's probably pretty universal advice. Okay, now have to go. I think the water for my tea might have cooled enough by now to make a perfect cup. Hmm... what if no cup were perfect. What if there were no cup? What day is it? Where?