Hair dryer, that is.
After running around all morning, doing laundry, then having to wait to dry my hair because I was folding laundry, the lump that I uncovered when I took the towel off of my head was quite startling in its sheer ugliness. I managed to wet it down slightly, slapped some mousse in it, then turned on the blow dryer to attempt to salvage it in time to go to this LEGO thing.
The moment I turned it on, I could smell that hot, electrical smell that signifies the end of a long relationship with my beloved industrial strength hair dryer ("I can't live without it!"). I quickly dried my bangs before turning it off, and gently placing it on the bathroom counter. There was nothing more to do, other than brush the rest of my hair, and add "Hair Dryer" to the list on the refrigerator, right under garbage bags.
I loved my hair dryer, although I never really had time to adequately dry my hair in the morning, it was quick, and had three heat settings, and two speed settings, along with a button to blast cool air if needed. When I did have time to use it properly, it could dry my thick, fine hair very quickly, without being too harsh... that middle heat setting was my favorite....
While the electrical smell, with just a hint of burnt hair, lingers in the air, my heart is heavy, and my hair is cold. It's time to say goodbye to my hair dryer... farewell, noble and loyal servant.
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