EDC 101 result unfinished projects

A Copper Vapor Laser Somehow Ended Up in My Bag and Stayed

A copper vapor laser is not a pocket thing. It’s a bench thing, a lab thing, something you read about and then close the tab on because it lives in a different category of life. But a while back I ended up with a compact module from a project that never quite happened, and it sat on my desk long enough to start feeling like any other object that drifts toward the edge and then into a bag.

At first I treated it like a temporary carry, the way a screwdriver ends up in your coat pocket after tightening a hinge and somehow rides along for three days. I told myself I was just moving it from home to work, or work to home, depending on where it had last been. It had a case, so it didn’t snag on anything, and it fit in that narrow side pocket that usually holds nothing but a small flashlight and a folded grocery list. For a week, it went everywhere with me without being used once.

The funny part is how quickly your hands start accounting for something like that. You reach for the light and feel the extra length beside it, and you adjust your grip without thinking. Sitting down, you notice the bag doesn’t collapse the same way, so you slide it a little farther back under the chair. None of it is a big deal, but it’s there, like carrying a slightly thicker wallet. You stop noticing it directly and start noticing the way everything else arranges itself around it.

I never had a real use for it in the sense that I would have for a pen or a knife. There wasn’t a moment in line at the post office where I thought, this is why I carry this. But I did find myself taking it out at my desk more than I expected, not to run it, just to look at it, to check that it was still where I put it, to turn it over and remember what I had planned to do with it. It occupied that same mental space as a project you haven’t started yet but don’t want to forget.

That’s a strange reason to carry something. It’s not utility, not really. It’s more like a reminder that follows you around, a physical nudge that says you once had a different plan for your time. I’d open the bag to grab my notebook and see the case and think, maybe tonight. Then I’d get home, put the bag down, and do something else.

After a couple of weeks, I left it on the kitchen counter by accident. I didn’t notice until halfway through the day, when the bag felt normal again. Balanced, lighter in a way that had nothing to do with actual weight. I reached into that side pocket out of habit and there was just the flashlight and the soft fabric lining. It felt like something was missing for a second, then it didn’t.

That’s usually how things fall out of my carry. Not a decision, just a gap that doesn’t bother me enough to fix. If it had been my keys or my wallet, I would have turned around. This stayed on the counter for three days. I walked past it a few times, each time thinking I should put it back in the bag, and each time not doing it.

What surprised me was that I still thought about it during the day, even without the physical reminder. The absence didn’t erase the idea of it. It just made it quieter. Without that extra object shifting things around in the bag, I stopped adjusting for it. My hand went straight to what it needed. The small frictions it introduced were gone, and with them, some of the nudging that kept the project in mind.

I eventually put it back in, but not in the same pocket. It lives deeper in the bag now, in a compartment I don’t open unless I’m already looking for something specific. It’s less of a daily presence and more of a stored intention. Sometimes I forget it’s there for a week at a time. Then I’ll be digging around for a cable and feel that case again, and it’s like running into an old note you wrote to yourself.

Carrying something like that isn’t about being prepared. It’s closer to carrying a thought you’re not ready to act on. It takes up a little space, shifts things a bit, reminds you in small, almost annoying ways. And then, just as easily, it disappears from your routine and you realize the day runs just fine without it. But you don’t quite get rid of it either. You just change where it sits, how often you notice it, and how much you let it interfere with everything else you already know you’ll actually use.