As I sit and write this article, a mug of hot tea sits contentedly beside me on my bed table. And when I say bed table, I really mean overturned trash can, since I’m in my dorm room, and that’s just the way things are when you're living on student loans and a prayer.

But I digress.

There’s something about the process of making tea that’s soothing. Therapeutic, even. The best way to start is to pick from an array of your favorite mugs (Mine at the moment is a cheeky imitation of a Butterbeer flagon from "Harry Potter"). Next, fill it up with some water (my specially-put-aside Poland Spring bottles see to that). Now, pour the water into your kettle. While you wait for it to boil, set about picking your tea bag. This time, I went for Lipton’s classic blend, but for those of us with a quasi-tea problem, there are plenty of possibilities from which you can choose: raspberry, orange spice, green, chamomile, earl grey, stress-alleviating, pain-relieving, fall-asleep-ing, waking-up-ing—just tea, tea, tea, for days and days and days.

Then you hear it: the whistling of the pot. This is the signal that indicates your Poland Spring water is ready, and hotter than the cast of "The Avengers" in a jacuzzi. Pour that transparent lava into your cheeky mug and drop in the tea bag. Pull on its string a bit to make it bob in its mini wading pool. Or you could make the bag headbang wildly in its little liquid mosh pit, too. Whatever you like best.

Also, at this point, I personally like to drizzle in some honey. And when I say “some," I really mean close to a quarter of the bottle. What can I say, Pooh Bear has a point.

And now…you wait.

Your masterpiece will tragically burn your mouth six ways to Sunday if you drink it too early. So instead, like in any healthy relationship, you should give each other some space to cool down. When a suitable amount of time has passed, take your first minuscule sip, and if it doesn’t feel like your tongue has been dipped in the fiery pits of Mordor, it is safe to continue enjoying your creation.

Each sip now gradually becomes longer, sweeter, and friendlier. If you’re a real tea connoisseur (and by that I mean a tad hipster, which is okay because deep down, we are all hipsters in our heart-of-hearts), you take the extra measure of holding the warm mug to your sinuses, over your eyes, on the apples of your cheeks, just to give yourself a moment to inhale your calming concoction.

However, as the following overused platitude reminds us, all good things come to an end. Eventually, you’re staring into the bottom of your cheeky mug, left only with a rim of honey-induced discoloration on the ceramic, indicating the wispy memory of your tea’s sweet, sweet aroma. You begin to despair. What happens if you think of the presidential election in the next five minutes? Or if you get the "Damn, Daniel" meme stuck in your head again? Where will your friendly, de-stressing tea be then?

Answer: It’s in a second cheeky mug, a second Poland Spring bottle, a second glob of honey. Because you deserve another cuppa. You always deserve it.