I replaced my shaver yesterday. It was six years old, and finally starting to wear out after giving me long and faithful service. I remember that it's six years old, because I remember that I bought it while going out with Kirsten, in turn because I remember deliberately getting one with a battery so as not to be tied to the shaver socket in my college bedroom where she might still be trying to sleep some mornings. It's odd, the routes you have to take through your own memory just to retrieve a perfectly simple thing like a timestamp.

(And yeah, part of the reason I'm posting this is not because anyone's going to find it particularly interesting, but because six years from now when the new one is wearing out I'll be able to look back at my diary archives and remember how old it was :-)

It feels really weird to be using a shaver that's a subtly different shape. I almost feel that getting a completely different type which was a totally different shape would have been less disorienting! I suppose that must be because you use a shaver first thing in the morning when you're still half asleep, so your conscious mind isn't really very active and it's all done on instinct and habit…