I had invented deep-fried cauliflower cheese balls. I couldn’t wait to eat them for lunch, but it had been a massive mistake wrapping them in a sheepskin rug to take them into the office.
Walking through a leafy square, I thought I spotted a pile of £10 notes. As I got closer, eager to pick them up, I realised they were actually playing cards. I had to pretend to be tidying them up and “helping” the homeless people to whom they belonged.
A blonde tourist with a wheeled suitcase approached me asking for help in finding his hotel. Instead, I mocked him for being Austrian and then was rude to SON, a former boss who happened to be walking past.
My new tattoo was a tale of two halves. The bracelet element was pretty – pink and flowery. But CF picked up a red pen and started to proofread and correct my new “work” hand tattoo. It was meant to celebrate books and publishing, but was full of spelling mistakes and grammatical errors.
I sat next to Blake Lively on a plane. She had a brand-new baby. We got on very well, until I made the mistake of serving her a chopped-up baked potato without first removing the “carcinogenic black spots” on the skin.