The Northern man who shares my bed started coughing at 3.30.
‘Orrible it was.
Whilst he expectorated I turned to BELLERUTH NAPERSTEK. No she wasn’t sharing our bed, I have a series of her cassette tapes. How to sleep, reduce stress, diminishing anxiety and divorce your husband all with a flick of a switch.
I ended up falling asleep with the head-phones on, when I woke up I had a large round impression on my cheek I looked like I had been branded with a Sony hot iron.
The news woke me at 7.00.
My PT Instructress was arriving at 7.30, so I had 30 minutes to tie my trainers, brush my teeth, wash my face and get rid of the ring of Sony.
I half hoped that my gym mistress wouldn’t turn up, the rain was teeming down and I felt like silage.
In the event she buzzed herself in at 8.00. We had a drink, talked about health and fitness, did a pile of conditioning exercises on the carpet then braved the morning air.
The elementals were kind to us, not one drop off rain fell as we ran towards Battersea Bridge – no sign of my Italian – and as jy heart rate climbed the sun decidded to spread a ray or two.
Getting into LBC is really dodgy at the moment. Roadworks make for a turgid judder until Earls Court looms. The journey now takes twice as long. Mr. Chris Lowrie pointed his finger and raised his eyebrows when I rolled in at 11.45 last week. Llet me tell you however perfectly formed the Lowrie is his raised eyebrow is not something to be encouraged.
After Mr.Steve Campen has talked me through the days running order, given me ideas, revealed his extensive knowledge of EVERYHING, I go up to the 3rd floor and talk a wee bit with James O’Brien. Only for two weeks James O’Brien is James Max as James O’Brien is on paternity leave with his second baby daughter.
Today Mr. Max was interviewing an MP from the Labour Party who was approached by Boris Jpohnson from the Tory Parety to assisst him as mayor should he win this Thiursday election.