Yes, I’ve been gone too long. Yes, you miss me. Yes, you’re dying to know where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. No? That last one? Oh. Okay. Be that way.
Anyway, yes, I’m back. However temporarily. And no, I’m not going to launch into a whole tirade of where I’ve been and how I’m really back now and whatnot. Suffice to say I am busy, and a LOT of shit is going down these days. What I *AM* here for, though, is to rant.
You see, recently, I stole from my Dad (with his permission) a beautiful Cross pencil. Now, I’ve looked for it online, and it seems to be a Cross Advantage, though I can’t be certain, because I can’t find the design anywhere. No, not even on their official website. Yes, it’s a beauty. Never you mind the crappy late night photo.
It is a thoroughly lovely pencil, heavier than I usually have a taste for, smooth as silk (though I’m sure that has to do with the lead it came with as well), and overall wonderful to write with. Except for one thing.
The lead just got over. Which is cool, it’s a mechanical pencil (or, since I’ve grown up in this country, a penpencil), so it refills easy, right?
I cannot seem to load a new lead into this thing. (Please try and ignore the slew of #TWHS/TWSSes that are about to come your way.) I’ve tried putting it in from the front, I’ve tried putting it in from the back. Nothing. I’ve looked on the official website to tell me how to put it in. Nothing. And the more I’ve searched, the more I’ve come to one shocking conclusion. There’s nothing online about how to refill this thing. Nothing. Everything I have come across seems to be about a different kind of loading mechanism. Which means only one thing: I’m an idiot. Clearly, it is so effortless to refill this pencil that no one has even bothered writing about it or making a how-to video.
Which means, simply, that I am an idiot.
I hate this. Never thought I’d see the day when stationery would make me feel stupid. =(
And yes, this is me saying I’m going to try and write more (and I mean actually write, not narrate my crappy pencil-less life). Can’t promise anything, though.