This morning, as I was scribbling out a note, my pen, nay, The Pen, passed in a sudden fit of inkless scratching.
We all have our quirks. We all have favorite items that we may use on a daily basis; a pair of pearl earrings, Ked’s sneakers, or Burt’s Bees Replenishing Lip Balm (buy this now).
We all have our favorite writing utensils. No, you can’t tell me that you just pick up whatever is lying around. There has to be a preference somewhere, even if its only as basic as black or blue ink. Me, I’m a blue ink kinda gal. Either that or a nice mechanical No. 2 pencil.
Anyway, The Pen and I met on my very first day working here at the College. It was sitting in the bottom of one of my desks, neglected, covered in desk-lint and paperclips, waiting for the right touch to come along. I was that touch.
Because I had nothing better to do than learn the ins and outs of my office on that first day, I decided a good cleaning was in order. The ol’ lady who had the office before me sure liked to collect paperclips and multicolored binder dividers, so I sought to organize those first. It was when I was scraping out my top desk drawer of rainbow colored paperclips that I found The Pen.
The Pen and I have been through a lot. At least 4 people in the office have stolen The Pen, and great lengths were gone through to retrieve it (including breaking into offices after work hours; no, I am not kidding). I have watched my coworkers unconsciously chew on my beloved Pen cap, a place where only my dental records should reside (note: appropriate sanitizing measures were used to restore the illustrious glow of The Pen cap after these mishaps). And The Pen has traveled with me to various locations including downtown Albany, New York City, and the better part of Europe. I’m telling you people, I fucking love this pen.
Every morning my Pen would rest in the cradle of my computer keyboard, waiting my arrival. Once there, we would set off on a smooth journey of cornflower blue streams, gliding our way onto letters, envelopes, forms and sticky-notes alike. We worked so well together, splashing out letters, numbers and the occasional doodle across thousands of pieces of paper. We were one with each other, my Pen and I.
And then, this morning, after a little over a year and a half together, my Pen passed. I will miss you. I may even keep your perfectly ridged cap for future use…God knows that’s probably the only thing keeping me from trading in your fine pointed goodness for a gel pen.
Oh, what am I saying? I’ve had a back-up box of your twin brothers for half a year now, waiting for this day. So long, Penneth Rupert Inkblot! You were a gentleman and a scholar.
Services will be conducted at Jeanine’s apartment later this week. In lieu of gifts, donations to your favorite stationary store are appreciated.
