My neck is sore after falling asleep on the sofa watching the BBC election coverage. Even the correspondent walking through the virtual Downing Street matrix could not keep me up past 1am. And it’s a good job I didn’t wait for Ealing’s result – it came in at 8am.
Switch on the TV; the reporters are all talking jibberish after being up all night. Dramas have been reported in some Ealing polling stations, with queues ‘snaking round the block’, although I’ve seen bigger queues in H&M.
I see my old stomping ground of Brighton has our first Green MP so I text Jem, who lives there. 'But I wanted a yellow!' she replies. My older sister in Manchester texts she would have preferred ‘JLS to win for a well-hung parliament’.
Tory Angie Bray is now in charge here, who, from what I have gleaned from her glossy leaflet, is a woman who plays a ‘mean Cole Porter on the organ and piano’ and has thin, lifeless hair and a lazy eye. Her biggest success story to date has been to get the noisy tannoy announcements at North Acton tube station turned down a bit. Oh well.
I brace myself for a long day at the office reading features on politicians and handbags.
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