(Not strictly in this order.)
Stood in a queue of about 60 people in the stationery shop that reached from the front of the shop right to the back in order to buy, among other things, a specific model of calculator then realised I had forgotten the slip of paper with the calculator reference on. Bought *a* calculator anyway. Forgot the scissors. Got the wrong length of ruler.
Tried to find a way to translate the expression "dans le plus pur style festif new yorkais" which didn't make me want to vomit out of my eyes. Failed.
Maths homework: something something associative, commutative something something élément neutre.
Happened upon a parade whilst checking the price of a hot chocolate for an article (please admire my conscientiousness). It was composed of brewery drays with huge feathery fetlocks and vintage lorries. The horses were delightful.
Being immensely predictable, this charming pony was my favourite.
Watched a 1964 live Jacques Brel set in bed with a tilleul-citron like a pensioner (Me, like a pensioner, not JB. Brel is soaked in sweat and electrically intense in his good suit, with all his features too big and too expressive for his face and his giant tombstone teeth and you can't take your eyes off him).
Found and watched an episode of Father Ted I had never seen before with boys (stolen whistle). Father Jack identifies a bottle of Jacob's Creek Chardonnay 1991 just from the clinking.
Watched a short film of a dog dressed as a spider.
Left the new violin teacher standing on the step for 10 minutes because we were watching 'Marrying Mum and Dad' with the volume far too high and didn't hear the doorbell.
Considered accosting a butcher. Rejected plan.
Discussed with the children what the headmaster's instructions as to his funeral might be (scattering of ashes in school dinners, pre-recorded 3-hour oratory, glass coffin in pyramid mausoleum in schoolyard?).
Got increasingly angry looking for a bag of dental elastics. Failed to find bag of dental elastics.
Ate many tiny things in puff pastry to celebrate the opening of our Picard.
Made not-great fluffy pancakes.
Had a small gin.
Fed the hedgehog.
Fed the chickens.
Realised the dog had no food and it was too late to buy any and had to feed it roast chicken.
Googled "animalerie ouvert le dimanche" without success.
Sat on the sofa after the children had gone to bed and pretended to give an interview in French about a book I haven't written, but had written in the fantasy life I was living in that moment (it's not even the book I'm supposed to be writing). I think you should probably grow out of giving pretend interviews to a pretend TV culture show eventually, but I haven't reached that point yet. I'm only admitting this under the influence of a small gin and a large Lemsip. I was very articulate and amusing and perceptive.
Cleaned Nutella off the sofa.