On an annual basis, I walk into CVS and buy a quantity of pens and pencils that probably leads the person behind the counter at the store to believe that I am prepping to become Mark, the misbehaving medical student who is being forced to write "I will not tell patients that they have pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis because I think it is funny" 100 times.
The reality is that despite the infinite number of writing implements I seem to start the year off with, some get left in pockets and go through the washer, some get loaned out to Pencil Public Enemy No. 2 who has no intention of returning them and others simply get lost in the Ticonderoga Triangle and are never seen or heard from again.
By this time each year, I always seem to be miraculously minimized to one or two pens or pencils in my possession. I don't know where they go to on their pencil pilgrimage, but I hope they are happy and also, I will find them and I will write with them.
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