Tuesday, May 08, 2007

 

Back to Work

The sky's angry grey and heavy rain indicated that, mood-wise, it was with me this morning as I dragged my unwilling self out of bed and towards work. There's something unutterably depressing about the combination of returning to work and drizzle. When I was younger I used to dread the first day of term. On the last night of the holidays there were frequently tears, well into my teens (I should be embarrassed to say this, but hey, I'm elected now...). But today I made it in all the same, to be greeted by the congratulations of my colleagues, none of whom had taken it upon themselves to rid my desk of the build up of work, or my inbox of the hundreds of unanswered emails, during my absence last week. Kind words are all well and good, but I'd have preferred no work.

Having been expecting a phone call from Orange Broadband for the last three days ("We'll call you within 24 hours, I promise"), naturally they chose the thirty seconds when I was away from my phone to make the call. Now, having rung them back on their cheekily expensive 0870 number to try and speak to the person that rang me, I am informed by a screen-reading and hugely unhelpful member of their staff that I'm back to the end of the queue again. So we are no nearer a resolution of this problem with my line which now dates back, according to my records, to the very beginnings of time. I believe that if Stephen Hawking were to analyse my broadband connectivity issues, he would probably find that the MbPS speed increases the closer we get to the Big Bang.

The message that Orange left me asked if I could "give an update as to the status of my line." This is an interesting request given that I require precisely that information from them, and they are supposedly technically trained. Although, credit where credit's due, they at least appear to have mastered the use of a telephone to make the call in the first place, even if I am no nearer to remedying my complaint than if I'd asked a troupe of dancing penguins to fix it instead.

Aside from the ongoing drama that is Orange, I have today been speaking with a number of my Lib Dem council colleagues about plans for the future. This week will be all about finding my feet and laying down the early plans to help make St Mary's a better place. I am impatient to get cracking - there's lots to be done - but I know I have to rest on my laurels a little bit to give the Council itself time to draw up plans for committees and the like, and give Council officers time to find their feet in a new civic year. I have drawn up a list of priorities, and now have a fellow Councillor as a "mentor" to discuss these with. Updates will come as soon as possible.

And as well as the business at hand, there is still the small matter of formally celebrating the stunning election success, so this morning we have been laying the plans for the post-election party for helpers and supporters. As a victorious candidate I have to bring along supplies for the masses, which creates a number of potential problems. First, judging quantities of booze has never been my strong suit (a sure sign that I was cut out for the Lib Dems...), although I am not much of a drinker (to the disappointment of many), and as a result have little idea as to the correct amount of drink to bring to such an event, especially when I am involved in its organisation. I could nip to Tesco and buy a couple of crates of beer, but I have no idea whether this will paint me as a miserly skinflint, or a dribbling alcoholic. Hopefully somewhere in between. Second of course there is the problem of food. Again, I don't want to bring so little that I leave a roomful of hungry voters who will never give their support again. But then there is the converse risk that I will buy enough food to feed Greater Manchester for a fortnight, and single-handedly screw up Bury's land-fill figures for years. Such trials...

Rick

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