30 minutes before I had to leave the house, soaking wet hair...
Click.
No response from blowdryer.
"BABE!!!!!!" All husbands can fix broken blowdryers, right? Not this time.
Three choices:
One, call it a day and put a hat on. Two, go buy a new one, return home, do hair, get to work incredibly late. Three, attempt the unthinkable and try to style hair without a blowdryer.
In a completely un-Carolyn-like fashion, I didn't freak out, and decided to go for option three.
I went into our bedroom, round brush in hand, and attempted to blowdry my hair in front of our space heater. ha. So much for ingenuity. (In case you're wondering, it actually did dry my hair... and inject about a year's worth of static.)
Back to the bathroom. After spending a ridiculous amount of time trying to tease some life into my limp, lifeless hair (Snooki would've been proud), I threw in the towel.
Good thing I look good in hats.
1 comment:
Hilarious! Mine is gonna die soon (it smells like burning) and instead of being responsible, I'm waiting for it to die before getting a new one.
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