I spent most of the day on my feet.
We had tradesmen in as part of the building refit. In the public service you're not allowed to let people wander around willy-nilly. You have to have them under escort. Alas it seems I was the only one who gave a shit enough to do it and do it properly. A couple of times I tagged out with D---, my new colleague, but he's new so the tag-outs were just long enough for me to cram some emergency-must-do work into the short periods of sitting at my computer doing my actual proper job.
The tradies were kewl. They laughed at my dodgy attempts at being witty and I even spotted them some cans of coke from the social club fridge. Yes, I am that easy, proto-comedy audience. I will pay you to hear me it seems. Anyway they were happy to share secrets of their trade—signage placement—including that letters had to be melted into the wall with a heat gun and that a dentist's hook probe was the ideal device to carefully nudge the placement of ultra-thin plastic lettering into the correct area.
But the standing. Oh, God, the standing. My lower back was killing me by early afternoon and in the end I was watching them from a seated position. However it wasn't all bad. Normally escort duty is balls; you're just sitting or standing and not doing anything. And I feel rude if I go into my head and listen to podcasts on the Mp3 player. Solution? My loaner iPhone. I cranked up Safari and, thanks to a pretty stable 3G connection, was able to surf most of the day, reading my way through the latest Rudd V Gillard news, as well as my daily must-reads of Salon and Slate.
Finally, well after the standard knock-off of 5 pm, they left. I'll see them again on Monday.
When I got home, despite the fact that standing all day left me enfeebled and sore, I still manfully took on the TPC (1). My current minimum distance is 5.8 kays but I usually try and ride for the entire length of whatever episode of TV I am watching through the laptop. Typically The Colbert Report or The Daily Show. Today ... I just couldn't do it. Wobble-legged, the sweat cascading through my Connery-esq thatches of 70s pOrnstar style man-fur, I staggered back into the garden, into the house, and into the shower where the hot water soothed my aching aged and pretty sad collection of muscles.
Standing around all day on escort duty is wang-suckful.
Oh, the Rudd V Gillard thing. I am (I think still) a paid-up member of the party. I left the Democrats back in the mid-Noughties because I realised deep-down I'd always, always, preferred Labor to be in power. I even went to a few branch meetings, though they were depressing affairs; held in the basement of a pokie palace and with the speakers constantly interrupted by draws for the fucking meat-trays that came over the PA system. But anyway, I prefer Labor—and, as my blog header notes, I am a union member too.
So how how do I feel about all of this? Annoyed. It shouldn't be happening. It's destabilising. Do I have a preference? I do—Gillard. She's led a very effective minority government, accomplished a lot, and is an inclusive leader. Alas the media narrative has been against her from the beginning, though it wasn't helped by the nature of her ascendency, however required it was.
But if Rudd gets the slot ... he's still a far, far better option for the Australian people than Abbott or any of his ideologically strait-laced ilk. And I have to hand it to him, though his tendency for autocracy is great—forging perhaps this persona when he was Doctor Death back in Queensland State politics when he was Chief of Staff to Wayne Goss—he is a smart man and an effective campaigner, as evidenced by his delivering the ALP government back in '07, even though the 'It's Time' factor was a hefty element to the success.
And, like I said, who ever gets the chair, Gillard or Rudd, they're a far better option than Tony Abbott. A man whose policy ideas are either non-existent or broken (have you seen their climate change policy?!). A man who, when a Minister, did some tremendously fucked-up stuff. Like when he was health minister yet refused to grant women access to pill-based abortifacients because of his own theological considerations. He's a bully and a thug; a preening pretty-boy fixated not on what he could do to better the lot of Australians, to lift those whose lot in life is lesser than most, but rather on wearing the mantle of being Prime Minister.
We deserve better than what's happening. But politics is a messy game with a lot of egos in it. And sometimes shit like this goes down.
Besides, Abbott's a fine one to talk considering what he did to Turnbull's leadership.
Once again, I have to say it, whoever it was who put the invalid vote in the Liberal party room that effectively then delivered leadership to Abbott, needs his nads (2) stomped. Good one, fuckwit. Good one.
Anyway, bring on the Monday spill and I hope it goes as smooth as possible after that. The ALP has a lot of ground to catch up with, especially considering the fucked-up mob-esq idiocy that is the current media narrative of a government in crisis ... a narrative gleefully fuelled and fostered by the moral-lacking creeps that festoon the belfry over at News Limited.
(1) an exercise bike on semi-permanent loan by the foot-betroubled Casso, a delightfully winsome friend in the mist-shrouded heights of our mutually resided in suburb
(2) If a lady then some applicable body part, in a metaphoric sense of course.