Politic

I wake up bad. My balance is off. My shoulder hits the doorframe on the way. My eyes are red.

The wind is pounding against the weatherboards like an ocean. The cracks and gaps in our old house whistle.

I walk on tiptoes to be quiet while little cool inflows tickle my feet. The boys are still asleep. One is still and silent, the other snorting like an angry walrus, but both are peaceful.

Silence outside. Why am I awake? What woke me?

I hear the trees a mile away rustling, scraping and banging. The unseen rushing closer. The house groans.

I look up at the ceiling expecting it to peel away dramatically. There’s creaks and pops in the structure I haven’t heard before. Then the gusts move on south and I settle.

I edge the central heating up a little and wander into the kitchen for a glass of water.

I used to attach emotional or spiritual significance to waking up at night. I’d try and remember and analyse my dreams. Now? It’s just business as usual.

Next week I may get a few nights run of a full night’s sleep. But it won’t last.

One morning soon I’ll wake up and the government will have changed.

Bla bla bla (Pablo Fernández via Flickr)

One side still reeling from the original sin three years ago of boning their own leader, and then having to repeat the dysfunction to undo the job. Didn’t they realise that it’s our job to vote a leader out! Here… let me show you how it works…

The other side competently sitting on their hands, carefully hedging and clipping their words, knowing that everything can be rebooted once they’re in.

Ugh. It’s all too much.

I imagine on that future morning I’ll stumble and fumble around in the early morning light thinking wow the country has changed hands. That’s kind of a big deal. Shouldn’t I care?

Maybe after one, two of three coffees.

I suspect that the winners will still have to deal with boat people and a deficit. There will be competent management, we will send troops if asked to Syria, some kind of broadband network will be built and Chinese influence will continue to grow.

Aboriginal life expectancy won’t change, small-minded white chauvinist bigots will still have a platform, footballers will still fuck up, many people who want to work will be dependent on welfare, the Rineharts, Palmers, Murdochs and Packers will push their agendas through back doors, nobody will get punished – ever – for the Iraq War, the AWB scandal, Siev-X, participating in NSA surveillance, trying to bring down our government, and abandoning whistle-blowers. Pokies – designed to dishonestly manipulate and extract money from weak-minded people – will continue to kill. And the country will continue its fucking obsession with building highways and fuck-ugly apartment towers.

All these things, like a full nights sleep, will fade from memory.

Lack of sleep can make you grumpy.

If only the cricket was still on…

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