mourning a good friend

Today I lost the one friend who could always get around my head best:

My hair dryer.

The loss was inevitable, and I guess I should be lucky that we spent four quality years together. The little guy had been clinging to life for the past three weeks, overexerting himself during our morning sessions.

I know you shouldn't talk badly about the faithfully departed, but I kind of wish he would have died on a weekend. I was already running late for work today, and in the absence of heat-accompanied styling, I had to slick my hair back.

Right now I look like one of the girls from a Robert Palmer video.

But at least my dryer went out in style, not only refusing to turn on, but also exuding a thick cloud of smoke that brought me to a state of panic.

I should have listened to my own words of wisdom: In college, I wrote a column about how we cling to failing appliances just like we cling to bad boyfriends.

Sigh. Some things never change.

You can read the column here. Try not to cringe when I mention the multifunctional power of my electric toothbrush.