Old Habits Die Hard

I have fidgety hands. I can’t help it. I play with my hair. I twiddle my thumbs. I tap my fingernails. I do NOT crack my knuckles (that’s just gross). But I do flip pens. All the time. Especially in lecture.

However, I don’t think I’d qualify as a professional pen flipper. I can’t do that fancy twist-a-roo thing that all the Asians seem to have mastered overnight. I can try. It just doesn’t end well…

Incident #1

Chemistry morning lecture. I’m tap-tap-tapping my pen against my notebook, willing Dr. KY-netics to speak something comprehensible. I’m keeping in time with the song going around in my head (“There you go making my heart beat again, heart beat again, HEAT BEAT AGAIN!”). Suddenly, the pen is no longer hitting paper. The tip catches on the metal binding, sending my pen flying (oh! I rhymed!). The pen re-bounds off of my friend sitting next to me, soars across the aisle way and lands several feet away. I stare at it for a few minutes. And then I take out a pencil.

Incident #2

Biology evening lecture. I’m twisting the cap on my pen: off and on, off and on. It makes a fancy clicking noise when I shove it back down over the ballpoint tip. I stop to jot down a few notes on synapomorphies and then resume my game. Off and on. Off and on. It gets more entertaining as the lecture wears on. I start to see how fast I can click it. Off and on. Off ‘n on. Off’non. Offonoffonoffonoffon. Off. Completely off. Flying through the air off. And it lands right in this guy’s lap. Interesting turn of events. I freeze, unsure of what to do. I can’t just go and grab it back now, can I? So I smile. Hold out my hand. And switch to a pencil.

Incident #3

In-between classes. I’m in our super-secret, super-awesome hideaway, doodling to pass the time. My pen cap won’t come off. It’s stuck on. I grab both sides of the pen, one hand holding onto the end with teeth marks all over it, the other hand gripping the battle-worn cap. I pull, and smack my hand against the windowpane. The cap is off. But it’s not here. Nope. It slipped through the gap between the window and my cement bench (of all places, right?). I hold up my cap-less pen. For a while I just sit there, glancing back and forth from the gap to the now worthless writing utensil. I set it aside...and pull out another.