I Am Dane Bowers.

16 Apr

A word to the wise here: waking yourself up by smashing your face into the window of a train is really not advisable. 

I was having my (now almost daily) commute nap, when I got jolted in my seat and hit the window I was resting my head on with some considerable force. Sure, it meant I didn’t sleep all the way through to Edinburgh, but it also meant I felt sorry for myself for most of the morning.

It also didn’t help that having yesterday off meant that climbing four floors’ worth of stairs at 8:45 this morning turned me to jelly by the time I reached my locker. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that I’m finding it very tricky to fit in gym time at the moment? Because I am doing ALL THE WALKING, if my Fitbit is to be believed. Which it should be. I take back every complaint I had about my little Boots store and the stairs there because Exeter is another level. And another level. And another level. 

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