I developed an internet search training course for pugs and their owners and left my colleague in charge.
Meanwhile, I set out to buy some ribbons but ended up as the passenger in a chrome and burgundy sports car. It was a thing of great beauty that couldn’t be properly secured when we parked it on the high street. While we were away hundreds of strangers queued up to climb into the car and take selfies. Angry I complained to a police officer who jumped into the car and took me on a terrifying joy ride. This included driving at roadwork barriers (“I’m a police officer darling, trust me”) and – for a horrifying minute – cutting his toenails with one hand and steering the car with the other.
When I returned to work, the bunk beds were unmade and the training room was full of dachshunds and not pugs. Something had gone wrong.