I heard a Big Crash from downstairs this morning while I was groggily brushing my teeth, but didn't think much of it so continued to brush my teeth. See, Big Crashes aren't particularly unusual occurrences in my house, what with the two un-familially related, perpetually warring (neutered) male cats that live with me who really enjoy their wrestling practice.
So when I eventually sauntered down the stairs, I was gripped with a violent rage when I discovered that one of the little darlings had pulled my GHD straighteners from the table where I had left them to cool down, and landed them on the newly installed tiled kitchen floor. Evidently, if one pits a tiled kitchen floor against an expensive ceramic hair straightener, kitchen floor wins.
At this point in time, I am becoming aware that my plan of saving money for NZ has failed spectacularly, so the death of this particular personal item has been the source of much chagrin. I mean, I am not renowned for spending much time on my personal grooming, but such that is mostly requires that I have a set of straighteners that work. They pretty much HAVE to be replaced.
Hence my rage.
Looking forward to the Wales v France rugby this evening, though.
(Also, aren't I doing well, posting 2 days in a row?)
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