A traumatic commute

I listened to the radio during my ten minute drive into work this morning  (free car parking at the private hospital, and the need to look fabulous in front of paying patients, rather than public hospital ones who have to put up with my disheveled appearance after cycling in, determines my mode of commute).

A visit from Aunty Flo

Just back from a yoga class. The regular instructor was off on a retreat, so we had a fill in instructor, a chap called Simon.

Identity

I’m amazed people can still recognize who I am when I’m at work – with my hair under a cap, and a mask on.

Old newsletter bio

Found this self penned bio (guess that’s just an autobio then) in an old copy of our departmental newsletter from before I took over the reins.

Hot to trot

I’ve bought four pairs of black Nike sneakers over the years.