It was at this point I started wondering if I had actually made said cup of tea or merely imagined it, and what the likelihood was of it having been stolen by gnomes if I had really made it.
I then remembered that today was the blog's eighth birthday. (Here's the first real post. It's number two because number one was a test post.) I thought, I'd better go and post something about that, and wandered back to the sofa I've been mostly inhabiting for two days, and there, beside where I had been sitting, ignored and undrunk, where it had probably sitting for at least an hour, was a cup of very cold camomile tea.
And I thought, eight years ago, when I began carefully charting the progress of American Gods, nervously dipping my toes into the waters of blogging, would I have imagined a future in which, instead of recording the vicissitudes of bringing a book into the world, I would be writing about not-even-interestingly missing cups of cold camomile tea?
And I thought, yup. Sounds about right. Happy Eighth birthday, blog.
(I expected in honour of the birthday month, the Oracle is now a turbanned me, and indeed, it is: http://www.neilgaiman.com/oracle/)
This post was brought to you by a cup of cold camomile tea.