I'm in London!
Remember when I did my last entry, on Thursday, 7 hours before I left? Well, actually 8 and a half, because the flight got delayed... but anyway, remember? At that point, I'd been up for about 5 hours. Well, take that five, add the next 8 and then add 25, and you'll get the exact amount of hours there was until the next time I fell asleep. Right, if you want to get technical, I think I snatched a couple of hours on the plane here and there, but otherwise... yup. Thirty-eight hours.
I went from Heathrow straight to the office, did a day's worth of training and asking of intelligent questions, then spent a few hours at The Domestics, before I finally went to my hotel and crashed.
Poppets, I'm a pretty messy sleeper. My sheets and comfortor are always flung hither and thither, tangled up in between my legs and twisted around my body. Sometimes I'll wake to find that my head is completely hidden by pillows and such, while sheets have been pushed away, revealing to the world that my nightshirt has ridden up to around my middle, so that anyone passing my bedroom will be able to get a clear view of London, France and, judging by the size of my underwear-clad arse lately, a whole lot of other countries too. Where was I going with this? Right. Tangled sheets. It's worth noting, poppets, that this morning I woke up in the exact same position in which I fell asleep. I was too tired to move, to tired to dream. even.
But I'm in swingin' London, baby, so really, what does it matter?
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