And It Burns Burns Burns

This lovely little sign is now taped to my front door in the hopes that I will spare it a glance while dashing out the door at 5 minutes past the last minute.

Why? Glad you asked!

My morning routine, like many womens, includes the use of several heated electrical appliances such as a hair dryer, a flat iron and an iron (the regular kind...for pants and such). At least once a week I find myself driving to work and, when I'm much too far to turn back, wondering if I unplugged one of the aforementioned appliances. Usually I have, but I spend the whole of the day questioning myself, mentally retracing my steps and envisioning the burning inferno I will come home to. I really must teach one of the cats to answer the phone.

On the other side of the spectrum, however, are the days where I blissfully go about my business only to come home and find that I had left my molten-lava-hot flat iron on all day, inches away from plastic bottles of flammable styling products. Enter horrific fiery visions.

And so we come to today. I'm running behind, as usual, and I find that the pants I want to wear need some serious ironing. Okay...I can do that quick if I eat my breakfast in the car. I wander into the other room where the ironing board is kept, and find that the iron is already on it. And already hot. Huh. That's odd because the last time I ironed was yesterday morning.......

Oh. Crap.

The iron was plugged in and left hot atop a wobbly, unstable ironing board for a FULL 24 HOURS! Genius. Bloody brilliant. I slept a blissful sleep, in complete ignorance of the impending doom just a room away. I feel very fortunate that last night the cats decided to abandon their frequent plotting of how to get on top of the ironing board and instead decided to sleep on our bed in such ways as to make it physically impossible for us to move our legs.

As I've said, this isn't the first time I've done something like this (the flat iron being the most typical culprit). However this seems to be occurring more and more frequently and in increasing, uh, variety as described here by my husband. I didn't really care for that rug anyway.

I'm really not stupid, just increasingly forgetful. Or perhaps I am a simply a suppressed pyromaniac. Either way, I am looking into different games and 'exercises' that can help boost memory, and in the mean time I am leaving myself a LOT of notes . Notes are my friends.