Archives for posts with tag: weight lifting


Doing weights at the gym. Turns out all the intimidating men don’t go to the gym on a Saturday lunchtime. Also sweated out all the beer from last night.

Enjoying the sun. In the garden. In the park. In the sky.

This cool face on the toilet door.

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The squirrel with the great big mouthful of leaves.
Evening exercises to Beyoncé and M.I.A.
Work laughs. With the builders. With Rochelle. With Janet and Lloyd.

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I went to the gym. FINALLY.
A parcel from my aunt containing a book about women and the environment. That’s two of my favourite things.
A kiss.

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My ‘Fuck You World’ cream tea breakfast.
Having everyone walk out of my way as I raged across Hungerford Bridge, admiring the disappearing building tops.
Going up a weight number at the gym.