MONDAY
Life is just one long crisis. Big row over what to take to Sudan in Lord A’s jet. I just thought that a few Harrods hampers thrown in with the medical supplies might cheer people up a bit, although possibly I shouldn’t have forked out for them myself on my account card. (Have given up on ever paying it off now, no matter what Gideon says.) Then had to sort out hacks who were bored and demanding more ‘access’ before trip had even started. Told them, you’re on the jet, only ten rows down from Dave, and we’ve put you in the next best hotel to ours. What more do these people want? Jed says they won’t be happy until they’ve seen Dave break down in Di-style tears of empathy with the displaced multitudes. Which is not until Day Two in the grid. It’s little wonder I forgot to have my jabs.
Am actually quite relieved to be stuck in London. Mummy was driving me mad nagging about the gang-ya weed, or something (practically speaking, I don’t think I was going to have time to smoke much marijuana, but it’s no good arguing with her).
TUESDAY
Am helping IDS organise his ‘social exclusion’ placements. Dave says it is essential we show we care for the dispossessed (and not just by giving IDS himself a job, although that was a good start). Now every MP is going to do work experience with an outreach project. I think it’s gone to Smithy’s head a bit. Walked in on him earlier as he was plotting MPs on his Map of Misery: ‘Yes, that’s right Mr Davis, you’re headed for the centre for crack addicts, and that’ll teach you to undermine my leadership…’ DD says he doesn’t care. ‘Crack den? Ha! Luxury! When I was a kid I would have given my eye teeth to live in a crack den…’ etc.
Sir Patrick and Sir Peter not quite so gung-ho. Say they will only co-operate if they are given a luxury trailer to camp in outside the young offenders’ institution. It’s got to have a chemical loo, entertainment system and black-out blinds. It’s like dealing with J-Lo.
WEDNESDAY
Sat in on a focus group today. It was terrifying. Three hours, ten plates of sandwiches, a crate of wine and £5,000 later we know the following: Gordon Brown is a gobstopper, Dave is an after-dinner mint and Ming Campbell is a Werther’s Original.
At least the placements are going better. Mr Lansley says he can’t wait for his and can we make sure he gets three weeks, around the time of the Easter school holidays. Having said that, am struggling to place him. All the drink and drug charities are demanding we send them big names. The methadone drop-in centre wouldn’t take Mr Heald on the basis that he was only mid-ranking shadow cabinet — ‘we had Blair turn on our Christmas lights last year, y’know’.
THURSDAY
More problems. Have had to scrap a lovely webcameron guestblog film I made last week: ‘Build your own wormery with Greg Barker and James Gray!’ Jed convinced it will generate bad headlines. Don’t see why. Just because a couple of MPs with marriage difficulties happen to have a genuine interest in live composting facilities which are quite literally ‘a can of worms’ doesn’t mean people will snigger. Necessarily.
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