How My Flat Iron Wrecked My Morning

I hit the ground running today. Out of bed by 6 and straight to the laptop where I pounded out the final edits on my book proposal and hit the SEND button, sending them flying across the electric miles to my agent in California. Then a quick check of e-mail before I prepared a marinated asparagus that must sit for 8 hours in the fridge. Hopped on the treadmill for 3 quick miles, showered, blew dry and... the world came to a halt.

My flat iron, the most treasured possession of any curly-haired woman living in the humid South, was dead.

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