I Cry Over Pencils (p.1) | Atypical Anecdotes

Hey my dudes (why am I talking like a surfer boy?) and welcome back to my blog.

I normally don’t like blog posts like this but I came across a blog a while ago that was an actual blog, like a journal type of thing. And I read a few. They were really funny, entertaining, and kind of educational. I’ll try and find the blog so I can share it with you.

SO I’m gonna try and write one myself about a recent… event!

Also, if I seem sad or bored, it’s ’cause it’s Sunday night and I HATE Sunday nights. You’re just trying to get over the inevitable fact that you have to wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning.

CRAP I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE HOMEWORK I DIDN’T DO. Oh well, I’ll just do it in homeroom. \_(^u^)_/

I’m a horrible student with all A’s.

Image result for student gif

So, anyway.

I go to Sunday School. And it is the WORST. Like, I’m not kidding– it’s worse than regular school. I’ve been going to Sunday School for 7/8 years now (the same one) and I still have no friends. Partially because I’m an anti-social failure, but that’s irrelevant. I mean, I do have one ish-friend, but ish. Ish.

Not to mention that I NEVER learn anything from it. It’s basically 4 hours (which isn’t a lot, but it feels like 8) of me sitting at a fold-up table listening to the teacher yelling at the guys™ to shut up and focus. And just to make it clear, there are *counts* 5 guys and 2.5 girls (one never shows up), including me and my ish-friend. And I’m not saying that I know everything, because I DON’T– I’m just tired of learning the same thing over and over again because I know I’ve mastered it, and it’s kiiind of a waste of time.

Why do I sound so pretentious? IDK. But at this point, I’m just in it to graduate and leave this institution at the end of this year. Countin’ down the days.

And the other students are kind of jerks. I don’t like talking badly about people behind their back but I’ll just leave this here.

Side note, what if I become rich and famous and one of them finds this page?

I just wanted to let you know that I made this GIF myself. :)))))

I digress.

*What was this about again?* Oh, yeah. So I own this pencil. And it’s one of my favorite possessions. And no, it’s not any old Ticonderoga pencil (although those are THE BEST wooden pencils, go Ticonderoga). It’s a *Googles name* “Sanford Pro-Touch TM II” with a black barrel and 0.7 lead. It’s a REALLY good pencil. It looks like it could kill you, but that’s beside the point. Here’s a picture of the one I own, taken by my own hands:

Wow, anyone reading this must be getting pretentious vibes all over this blog. But to give you context, this used to be my dad’s in college. If you know me, I’m extremely sentimental. I TRY NOT TO BE AND THEN I GET WAY TOO ATTACHED TO EVERYTHING AND THEN IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO IT I GET TOO EMOTIONAL YA FEEL ME? And then I’m like WOW OK I’m just contributing to CONSUMERISM and I feel like a sh!t person. Anyone else? *crickets*

K so that’s there, can’t change anything about that. I just really really really love this pencil and I use it every single day.

I bring it places too — and in this case, that wasn’t the right choice.

So, like any other Sunday School class, I sat in my chair. Wandered a lil bit during breaks. After two excruciating hours, it was time for lunch. I start to pack my bag because it’s a dangerous world of grubby children that could destroy my precious possessions. I realize I’m missing my pencil so I scan the floor for the shiny object.

I see it under someone’s chair. It looks fine. So I pick it up and I realize that something’s incredibly wrong. Here’s an artist’s depiction of what it looked like when I picked it up:

Wow this designer is so talented!! Look at that signature!

I freaked out, asked myself if I was losing it, and then upon further inspection, I discovered that this was terribly real. The part you push the lead out with was GONE and what was left of it had snapped into two.

Okay, this is getting lengthy and I doubt anyone with a life is going to finish reading this. So I’ll end this here and continue this story next week (or the next, to add some ~variety~).

So, stay tuned!

– Hera


One thought on “I Cry Over Pencils (p.1) | Atypical Anecdotes

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