Penjoyment. The state of good cheer that arises when pen and ink make writing fun.
Pendless. Your wishlist.
Penabler. All your pen friends. Or you drop them.
Penergized. That hopeful, exhuberant feeling that arises when you walk into a pen store or pen show or start browsing online — or even when you think, “Today’s the day I’ll clean out some pens.”
Penthusiast. How you describe yourself to your spouse, just before you start having merchants ship to your office.
Penthrallment. The knowledge that you must have a certain pen or ink, and it will be the last one you ever buy.
Penuui. Boredom with writing instruments, either the last one you bought, or all of them.
1. The unexpressed, uncomfortable feeling that, while you really couldn’t be happier that your friend got this sought-after fountain pen or ink, now that she has it, you feel left out, and your pens and inks seem second-rate in comparison.
2. If the possessor isn’t your friend, the feeling needn’t be kept secret, and can be expressed with a witty dig at the object or the possessor, or both.
1. A person with whom you send letters back and forth.
2. A person you have owed a letter to for three months. See, Penemy.
Penemy. A person who used to be your penpal, until your replies became so slow.
Penitent. A person who replied too slowly to her penpals.
Penvelope. A real word, for an attractive but expensive leather pen case that you consider buying when you have bought too many pens to contain any other way. If you have at least two Penvelopes, see, Pensanity.
Pensanity. Peak pen purchasing madness.
Penlightenment. The state of feeling satisfied with the pens you already have, which must last longer than three months or until you save up for the next one.
Pend. The end of this blog post.