At first it was just a recreational thing: I definitely only used it on special occasions when I was going somewhere fancy.
Later on, I started using when I was feeling flat and needed a little pick-me-up. Nothing serious: just once a week, mostly on the weekends. It made me feel great.
Within a year I was hooked and using it most mornings before work because, well, I just felt better.
Yes, dear, reader, at the fag end of 2009 I regret to inform you that I am hooked on my bloody hair dryer.
UPDATE: I must have tempted fate because I've broken the fucking hair dryer. Broken-into-three-pieces broken. Balls!