Glow by Lady E

Is buying an expensive pen a form of vanity? A few years ago, I might’ve answered yes. I would’ve smiled politely at the glittery packaging, nodded at the cult favorites, and moved on with a trusty old ballpoint or gel pen — the kind you get free from an arcade game or  dig out from the bottom of a pencil pouch. Function over flair. Ink over indulgence.  Anyway, it's just ink right?  But I learned something recently. Learned it the hard way — through heat, swelling, and a wrist that screamed louder than any shopping cart ever could. Here’s the story. The Day My Body Said "Enough" I was doing something mind-numbingly archaic: updating records by hand (it's government required). Hours of listing, scribbling, rewriting. I reached for a basic ballpen — thin, hard, a little ergonomic, a Faber Castell. The kind that glides easily until your grip has to overcompensate. I used it because it's a ballpen and it's black - the two requirements. I a...