A feeling of almost total hopelessness. I don’t want to vote for any of the options available. And it is raining.
All is not lost though. There will always be some light. A most enjoyable scenario on election eve – in a local pub with three strongly left-wing friends trying hard not to reveal my complete political inadequacy (ie. whilst recently fascinated in the processes of politics, I truly don’t have one strong allegiance anywhere – they’ve almost all got policies I like and policies I don’t like), I was thrilled to hear that Zac Goldsmith had appeared at the next table to us. This set one of my friends almost into apoplexy and I was desperate for him to come and talk to us so I could snap a pic for her Facebook page. Although that would have broken one of my rules – don’t post anything political or comment on others’ political posts. (Saves loads of pointless keystrokes, does that!)
Sadly, hapless Zac was getting a pretty tough response from the next table (who we realised were known to us) and had to be rescued by the landlord whisking him off to the bar, and he never returned.
Interesting observation – whilst there were several men in the bar, the pub’s restaurant was almost entirely occupied by tables of women. Somehow all the local book-groups, school-mum friends and other leafy-borough female friendship alliances had chosen the same date and location for a pre-Christmas gathering. I guess that was a somewhat daunting prospect for a tired campaigner chap.
And I will vote. I can’t moan about the result if I’ve not even contributed. This is the only concrete and consistent ‘political’ view I hold.