Urgh, whose idea was it to have a 3 day recess?

The Monday after the recess before is always gravity compelling. Gone are the Jeans and T- Shirts, long lunch breaks and dance music in the office, back are the Suits, lunches at the desk and rolling news coverage on the Telly. I even got in for 9am, which is, um, rare.

The banality of it all was further underlined by a fire alarm. At first I was excited: *I could live tweet a fire in Parliament! It’s probably just toast though, still we can laugh at the MP whose life skills haven’t progressed to the point where they can’t avoid burning bread*

Then I got outside and realised all the catering staff had brought coffee with them, which meant it was almost certainly just a fire test. 30 minutes later the announcement came “Thank you for participating in our fire test”

For gods sake, I’ve taken 30 minutes out of my day to stand in the cold and be drill bait.

It’s not even 11am yet, Ed Balls was on the Today program and is on the front cover of Total Politics, I have 50 unread emails and Sally Bercow has done an interview where she mentions her vibrator, which is, well, awkward…

Someone pass the coffee, the gin and the intravenous syringe of morphine to the eye and give me some god damn good news…

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