1. Get new passport photo.
Slap on- check. Weather OK- check. Fourth time lucky?
2. Buy new underwear.
Fabric joining the cups on the last generation of bras has stretched so thin that the cups are moving apart like tectonic plates. Pants a disgrace to be run over in.
3. Buy toilet rinse.
To camouflage smell of Victorian piss rising from the common sewage shaft behind the toilet.
4. Get electric lousezapper comb.
Wee wan's hairpets still there after religious combing, though population very low. Her hair is so fine that the eggs and hatchlings can cling on through the comb's teeth.
5. Order Flamin' Groovies' reissued 'Teenage Head'.
Use kiddos' Amazon gift certificates. (Oh, and pay back kiddos.)
6. Lodge spare key locally.
Pub downstairs? Conveniently open from ~11 am to midnight. I don't hang out there, but once gave first-aid to a diabetic patron in hypoglycaemia, adding goodwill. Also there's the enforced banter with the smokers outside while I'm unlocking the stair door. Most are nodding acquaintances, but a non-local adolescent wolfwhistled me last week, and was reminded pleasantly for his trouble that I was old enough to be his mum.