As a welcome home gift my hairdrier (6 years old) attempted to catch fire. I’m not sure if it would have, but I turned it on and the motor which before I left was getting iffy and needing a bit of encouragement limped round a few times, the heater elements glowed red… I clouted it, the normal approach to making it run (‘cos it’s too cheap to fix, really). They continued to glow red. If anything got redder as the fan continued it’s uneven struggle against moving. I switched it off, realising that I’d rather be in control of switching it off than launching a flaming hairdrier out the window. It sat for a second or two and then smoke started to come out. Having cooled down it went in the bin outside.
I’ve unpacked.
*sigh*
I found strips of paper from ‘Things’. Bizzarely they’re not all from one round, so I’ve got *no* idea what they’re doing in my suitcase. Fucking weird. Reminds me of Alaska (which helps loads at the moment). My mum’s had upsetting news (she wanted to become a buddhist nun, and can’t ‘cos there’s an age-cap in the UK).
Let me share with you some pearls of wisdom
– Getting locked outside your house naked
– Goblins
– One skinny panther, free to good home
– Your dildo
– Wanted: Dominatrix who also washes windows
– Absolute happiness
Yeah. So here I am. I’ve found my dissertation stuff, cunningly I’d put it in an folder marked ‘dissertation’. I’m so sneaky sometimes. I guess I really should eat breakfast and head to the supermarket. Put clothes away. Fashion an e-mail to the people I said I’d e-mail. Not curl up and hide under a rock. Open my post. Blah.
