The second cup of tea is always shit

Embracing failure, enjoying success and starting over tomorrow.

If I have anything resembling a morning routine, it’s this: wake up, have a wee, make a cup of tea. Every morning, no matter what time my alarm goes off and no matter how tired or awake I feel, that kettle is boiling within ten minutes of me rolling out of bed. I choose a favourite mug and throw in a teabag. While it’s brewing, I’ll busy myself with putting away the washing or opening the blinds or clearing the draining board. I might stick the radio on, though sometimes I just potter about in the quiet.

Once it’s nice and strong, I lift the teabag out (NEVER SQUEEZE IT), add a fair whack of milk and head to wherever I’m planning on drinking it. This could be the sofa, my desk if I’m joining the Writers’ Hour or back in bed. Regardless of where I settle, I know that first cup of tea is going to taste just perfect. And it always does.

The second cup of tea, however, is always terrible. The second cup of tea might follow on immediately after the first or I might make it mid-morning. It could be an afternoon pick-me-up or even a bedtime brew. But whenever it is, it’ll be shit. I can’t speak for the third or even fourth cup of tea, but the second is, without fail, a massive let down. Either I’m too impatient for it and it’s a watery mess, or I start making it in the middle of doing something else and return to the kitchen an hour later to a stone cold cup of disappointment. I know really that I shouldn’t even bother making it. I know that I should make a coffee instead or even just have a glass of water and save myself the shudder of regret when I take a sip of that shit second cup.

But by some weird magic, the next day my tea-making skills have been restored. That first cup of the day absolutely hits the spot, no matter how shoddy my brewing has been before. I’m not going to be put off by a bad cuppa.

The same goes for other failures in my life. Recently I’ve had lots of rejections from jobs I’ve applied for and no’s to pitches I’ve sent. Each one has stung, some more than others. My stomach drops, I prickle with a mixture of shame and resentment. I’ve put myself out there, spent loads of time and effort, and for what? A bog-standard ‘Dear applicant’ email or worse, no response at all. I sulk. I spiral. I have failed. I am a failure.

And then then my sulk begins to shift. Usually prompted by kind commiserations from friends and family, or my partner bringing me a consoling cup of tea, the fog starts to clear. Actually, I’m not a failure. I have been successful before, and I will absolutely be successful again. Just because it hasn’t been my day today doesn’t mean it won’t be tomorrow, or the next day, or even the next month, year. If I really look at it, the day will have held its own little successes, moments that I’ll have completely overlooked or taken for granted. Maybe I hit a word count or thought of a great idea for next week’s newsletter. Maybe I managed to go a bit further on my run. Maybe it’s simply that I remembered to take the chicken out the freezer for dinner. If I’m feeling particularly robust, I’m sure I can find something to learn from that rejection, something I can do differently next time.

The tricky thing about success is that often it doesn’t weigh as heavily as failure. Failure can be all-consuming. We can take it so personally, feel it so deeply that it becomes us: not only have I failed, I am a failure. It causes us to doubt the choices we make, the things we a passionate about, the aspirations we have. Failure can be terrifying.

Success, on the other hand, is worn too lightly. I know that I am guilty of looking at my successes, giving them a brief nod and immediately moving on to the next thing. I pass them off as ‘no big deal’ or ‘just doing my job’, when actually I should be giving my hard work the proper acknowledgement it deserves. It’s about sticking each success to the metaphorical (or literal) pinboard above your desk where you can look at and appreciate them.

Seeing our successes and recognising their significance is what makes the failures easier to stomach. They remind us of our own brilliance, our capacity for creativity, dedication and joy. What’s more is they remind us that we have been successful and we will be again. All that’s happened right now is that you’ve made a shit cup of tea. There are still teabags in the cupboard and milk in the fridge, so don’t worry. You can make another brew in the morning.

Here’s some things I’ve been enjoying from the past week. Stick the kettle on and have a read/listen…

• Ever feel like you’re being pulled in loads of different (even conflicting) directions by your interests? Then you might enjoy this series from Seasons of Work on being a multi-passionate person in business. Their latest post is all about finding a niche while staying true to yourself and the things you love.

• With employees demanding a better work-life balance and companies considering its positive impact on productivity, is now finally the time for the four-day week to become the norm?

• Hattie Crisell has launched a Substack branch of her brilliant podcast In Writing. If you’re a writer, love writing or are just super curious about writers and their habits, hit that subscribe button.

See you next time!

Rebecca