I would like you to prove a hypothesis of mine. That I am special. I know, I know. Everyone thinks they are. When I was eleven I wholeheartedly believed I was a witch. I felt so sure that I was going to get a letter from Hogwarts. I tea stained some paper and wrote an acceptance letter to myself in green gel pen. You understand just to test drive. I’m not a witch sadly. I went another eleven years trying to find that little something that made me different from all the other specs of life in this universe. My expectations lowered every year. Now in my second lot of eleven years (22) I think I found it. I can stop looking.
On an afternoon, not so unlike all afternoons previously, I was being productive, making phone calls, thinking about cleaning the kitchen, staring at a blank computer page, when I decided it was high time I tested all my pens to see if they worked. This glorious collection of pens would rival my bookshelf and they needed to be tested and then placed amongst the four pen holders that scatter my house – each about two strides apart (I have a small apartment and long legs.)
My categories numbered:
- Shitty pens that have been stolen and have an outside casing colour that is offensive to my eyes (I will take these to work because I have less care that these will be stolen.
- Specialty pens: whiteboards, highlighters, pencils
- Nice pens, in normal blue, black, or silver casing colours.
- Pens stolen from Virgin Mobile
It was in the throes of wild testing mania that it happened. I picked up an average looking pen and promptly dropped it into my cup of tea. I was flabbergasted. I’m so glad that word exists to fully explain my emotions at this point of time. I stared at this ink and tea soup, not quite sure what to do. Finally I broke then magical stillness that had settled on my apartment and tested the pen (still worked) and drank my tea (still worked).
It is entirely possible that the crushing depression from not having received my Hogwarts letter, is a contributing factor to my obvious clumsiness with literary devices. I imagine, I would not have dropped a quill. So reader, what I would really like for you to do, is to help me test a theory.
Hypothesis: No one in the history of the world has ever dropped a pen into their cup of tea.
- Sit in wonderment
- Have epiphany that this would be an excellent opportunity to write a blog post
- Form internet poll
- Wait a week for results
- Pray every night that there will be data to collect at the end of the week, lest you never find out.
- If pen droppage is 0% at the end of the week – report results.
Conclusions of report to be announced next Monday