Blue Pen Blues

I love making lists. Grocery shopping lists, invite lists, to-do lists.

In fact, I think it’s one of the most fulfilling tasks (of those most mundane tasks that we must fulfill): to write a to-do list and, one by one, cross things off.

Sometimes all the time I add things to my to-do list that I’ve already done, or am in the process of doing, simply so I can cross them off. So I can obtain those little bubbles of achievement before they burst away.
But there is – of course – a catch to my afternoon-list-making delight. A snag in my willingness to write something down and put that perfectly symmetrical X through it. An impediment that leaves me unready, unwilling, and unable to enjoy making a To-Do.

You see...if there is nada but a blue pen present, I simply don’t delight in writing things down and crossing them off. Blue pens leave me listless – in all senses of the word. (How I love the English language! Hooray for homographs!)

Blue ink is positively inferior to black ink. It’s purposeless. Red pens, fine. Teachers wouldn’t know what to do with themselves sans their correctors.

But blue pens? Pointless!
Now don’t misunderstand me. I don’t dislike the color blue. Aqua oceans and cerulean skies are two of my most favorite things. I love the color navy (those sailors aren’t all that bad either). Blue eyes are purdy – though common to a fault.

My point is, I ain’t haterating on the hue de blue – just blue BICs. And Pilots. And Paper Mates. And Zebras. And Pentels.

Poor paper! It’s poisoned by that pernicious, boring, humdrum fad of a color, that stupid, senseless indigo ink.
Poor handwriting! My old fashioned a’s just don’t look as significant and stately in blue as they do in black. Ugh, and it makes barely legible scribbles positively hieroglyphic.


Poor eyes! I feel sorriest for them of all. Those sad, sad little orbs. They actually have to pay attention to that ink long enough to decipher words from its dizzying, unsavory grip.

I daresay the institution of the blue pen is unprofessional. It belongs in middle school along with the other pink, purple, teal, and orange ballpoint misfits.
Believe you me, I loved colored ink! But that phase of my life ended with the last bell of my last class. As it should have ended for everyone with a job. We’re in the real world now, people. This isn’t a place for pretty ink pens – that includes you, blue.



If I can’t find one of my black Pentel R.S.V.P's (medium point, naturally), on my mess of a desk, and there’s only a blue BIC in my line of vision, I seriously think twice about writing something down.

Then I wonder how the hell a blue pen got into my cube.

Then, later, I scold myself for forgetting what I had to do.

All because someone invented blue goddamn pens!
 
Let me just leave you with this thought: There is a reason for the Black Pen Only rule on very important forms and documents.