For someone who likes to write as much as I do, I am constantly finding myself in complete non-possession of a working writing utensil. I do most of my notes at school on my laptop, and sometimes when I have to sign in for a class or something, I search my backpack and find at best the skeletons of an ancient pen I stole from my ex-ex-job, or the eraser-end nub of an old mechanical pencil (btw the edges of things can be sharp when you pull them out of a random pocket, watch out!). I just rarely have a pen that works on me, not even in my own bedroom at my own work desk.
So I was quite pleased when I pulled this, a present from one of my JHS students when she returned from Tokyo Disney after winter vacation, out of my “dead pen cup”–not expecting it to work as I wrote a check for February’s rent, but it did. It used to be my daily ballpoint pen as I floated uselessly from classroom to classroom in this past life of mine, and at some point (in Japan) the ink stopped working well. At this point I retired it from use but kept it around for memory’s sake. And after letting it sit for a couple of years, here it works again like brand new.
I notice that happens a lot. Maybe that’s why I keep my dead pen cup around.