Numi's Organic Tea - Rooibos Chai

Well hello there tea lovers/people who enjoy seeing me in pain, today I have for you: Numi's Organic Tea - Rooibos Chai. Sorry about the four day break, but even tea disciples such as myself deserve a breather every now and again.

I haven't missed tea, I've gotta say, life is just as good without

Initial observations:

Smells chai-ish, whatever that is. I like the smell; it's very earthy and I'm semi excited about drinking this. That said, I'm a bit out of the tea loop at the moment and in a way I feel like a tea bag, floating around in a finite cup of water, bobbing up and down on my creators whim. I think we are all tea bags floating around, as our life soaks slowly into the ether, dissipating us into nothingness but ripples in a tea cup, half drowning, half breathing, depending on which kind of half-full/half-empty person you are.
Woah.

First thoughts on the first sips:

Nosh! I don't know what that word means, but it's how I feel right now. The nutmeggy-cinnamonish possibly rooibosish (don't actually know what it tastes like) flavour stays as the just spicy enough liquid leaves your mouth. It's pleasant, but also maybe a little too much. It's kind of like how at the time they thought that cinnamon chapstick was a good idea, and the prototype turned out to be Old Spice, which is meant for armpits. This tea would also be good for armpits! Tea with kick makes no sense to me; tea should be calming and chill, not get your blood pumping and your adrenaline firing. Tea should be as chill as mulled wine. I should start a mulled wine blog.

Actually, I take that back, I'd eat Old Spice

Many sips later:

I mean, I'm drinking it now because I've already made it, but I wouldn't make it again. I just don't get why someone would put themselves through this kind of thing; I guess it is making me look forward to my next meal, and what yum food I will be using to clear my palate; right now I'm thinking lots of tomato sauce and potato gems:

Whoever designed this tea is a frickin' idiot.


Recommendation: 

I'd recommend you something, but I don't want to breathe cinnamon fire anywhere onto your body and have you treated for chemical burns. Me talking face to face with someone right now would be like loading a shotgun shell with salt then firing it into the open chest cavity of a lung transplant patient in the operating theatre.

Final words:
30 chest compressions, 2 breaths, aaaand repeat.