I never drink the tea, but I can't bear to throw it out. So I put it in a jar with its compatriots where it sits for a while until it turns to dust and in a fit of purging I throw all the tea bags out, and I feel guilty about it.
I think maybe in a past life I lived through the Depression, or a Siberian winter. But surely I can't be the only person who deals with this tea angst.