I know for a fact I've never purchased a mechanical pencil - which means it, too, was probably lifted.I'm writing today, and having problems describing a fictional garden. It occurs to me that it's probably because, even though my brain is emotionally engaged with how it feels to be in this garden, I’m lacking a physical focal point. Ever practical, I decide to draw it. First I'll practice by copying a page torn out of a magazine pinched from the waiting room of my doctor. I'm not an artist, so this brings out the MacGyver in me. There is leftover garage sale poster board in the closet. Pencils will do - only when I open my office desk drawer, there are something like 20 magic markers, 50 pens (ranging from really nice to antique dried up Bic, nearly all lifted I'm sure because I cannot remember ever buying a pen), and absolutely ZERO pencils. I stare at the menagerie, willing a #2 pencil to appear. Doesn't happen, but one of the pens, upon closer inspection, does reveal itself to be a mechanical pencil. I know for a fact I've never purchased a mechanical pencil - which means it, too, was probably lifted. Somehow I have two small boxes of pencil lead and tiny replacement erasers, as well. Magazines, pens and a mechanical pencil. It’s disturbing. I’ve always considered myself a law-abiding person.