Sigh.

Dec 15, 2008 18:12

I know that it isn't an actual fact, but rather a cognitive distortion; still it does seem like bad things tend to happen at the worst times.

I was sitting at the 1842 today, writing in my journal. It's something I love to do. I love to sit and write in a leather bound book with unlined, fine quality paper, using my fountain pen and luxurious brown ink that I draw into the pen from an inkwell. It's where I write all of my best stuff. The stuff for me. It's as therapeutic as it is enjoyable. Ever since I started writing in the early 80's, I've known I'm a writer. At least in that sense.

Today, tragedy struck when in the middle of a paragraph I was writing, I lifted my hand away to muse on what I wanted to say next and the fountain pen slipped right out of my hand and struck the marble floor, nib first. At that point, the diamond coated nib set in 24K gold bent inward, and split the nib in two. I was so sad. I tried to fix it, and while I got it to go back to its shape, it is still bent inward, and the ink flow is erratic and too heavy.

This pen was a gift from Suzanne and my mom and is worth multiple hundreds of dollars. I've been writing with it for nearly a decade now. I hope I can get it fixed, but I fear the price will be too high... especially with my current standing as 'jobless wonder'. The pen is a Sailor, premium made in Japan.

Sigh.

Sigh.

m.

accidents, writing, tragedy

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