I was recalled back to the mothership at the weekend. It's nice to visit everyone once in a while so long as I know I can leave at any time.
This wasn't one of those occasions. I can't help think my mothers motivation for hosting my cousin's engagement party was simply a psychological attack on my single status.
I made every effort to speak with my family, especially the old ones. By my fifth glass of wine and third great aunt I was pointedly told that I was “bitter beyond my years.” This resulted in me spending the rest of the evening snarling at the children and flirting with every non related man in attendance. My mother looked like a lemon had been inserted in her by the time I declared “the foxes f*cking on the front lawn are more entertaining than you people!”
I strolled into work with a skip in my step Monday morning. After all I'm not Jeremy Hunt and I have no reason not to look forward to what the day had in store for me.
“Bad show Dave.” My bosses muttered as he returned to the office after Hunt's statement. I can see why the PM didn't come to the House. Everyone was going to be demanding an opinionated comment on the whole affair and Jezza is the only man who can't give one.
I was unaffected by his performance really. Some have commented that he did well, others have said that he killed any chance of being a contender for the leadership. If the latter is the case then the only winner today was George 'The Submarine' Osborne.
I picked up a discarded House of Commons research paper in a committee corridor. On the eighth page of Economic Indicators someone had scrawled the words WE ARE ALL F*CKED. Some people are so negative.
On a totally non related subject – do any of my dear readers know if Michael Gove plans to share his order from Total Absinthe with colleagues? I should hope so since it was delivered to the House of Commons...
I do so want to live in a world where our front benchers come to PMQs giggling with the green fairy.
Good night x
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