My Head Hurts

Those of you who know me well know that I hit my head on lots of things. LOTS of things. Everyday. Don't blame me, blame genetics (thanks Pops!) and awkward surfaces that just ask for it. If you were to shave my/my dad's head, you would find numerous indentations of years past. Similar to the rings of a tree trunk, you could also probably figure out how old we are. Why should that change in a new country? So this brings me to:

London Surfaces I've Hit My Head On (Part Uno...I'm Assuming):

This Laundry Money Machine

(In my defense, WHY PUT A CHAIR RIGHT THERE?)

This Elevator

(The modern-ness of it distracted me)

This Cabinet 

(Almost concussion...I waited awhile before going to sleep that night)

This Wall

(The bed is attached to it, so...not much can be done to prevent future injuries)

This Tube (Subway) Door...Multiple Times

(Is London full of short people?!)

In my defense with the subway door, the floor to ceiling ratio of the entryway combined with the step down (mind the gap!) is not built for people who wear heeled boots often. Heeled boots and own a large head apparently.