11.07
I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until I rolled out of bed on to the floor and just lay there thinking that maybe I could sleep there but I couldn’t get myself comfortable.
There were voices in my head that I have never heard before.
Your polling is at rock bottom.
"Bugger the polls," I said.
That sounded good when Bolger said it but not you.
"Leave me alone."
No-one likes you.
"They just have to get to know me."
They know you and don’t like you.
"They like my TikToks!"
No they don’t.
I lay there on the floor and used my slippers as a pillow. But the slippers smelled, so I got up and walked to the kitchen.
11.08
I drank a cold glass of milk.
11.09
I ate a cookie.
11.10
I sat in the dark with my head in my hands and tried to drown out the voices.
So this is how it ends.
Better start looking for another job.
Cut yourself a slice of chocolate cake.
I thought of some crowd-pleasing legislation we could rush through. We had attacked the unemployed, but what about sickness beneficiaries? A lot of them are faking it. And just because you’re in a wheelchair doesn’t mean you can sit around all day.
I turned on the kitchen light, and FaceTimed my loyal lieutenant Chris Bishop to get the ball rolling.
"Bish," I said, "Bish, we need to act fast! We — are you in my office?"
"Yeah," he said.
"You’re sitting in my chair."
"Yeah."
"Why are you sitting in my chair?"
He hung up.
I cut myself a slice of chocolate cake.
11.15
I ate the whole cake and that spurred me into action. I needed to get away, to sit and think and plot and renew my energies, to find peace but also strength. I got the DPS to call in the chopper. I dressed hurriedly, and was soon rising above the city, above the fray, above it all — just the way I like it.
11.37
"Send the bill to the taxpayer," I shouted above the noise of the blades to the pilot when he landed outside my home at Onetangi Beach on Waiheke Island.
DPS carried my luggage to the house.
"Cheers," I said. "I’m sorted."
Were they avoiding looking at me in the eyes, or was I imagining that?
11.56
I’ve been staring at the sea and not really coming up with any solutions or a renewed sense of vigour.
11.57
I phoned Nicola. It went through to voicemail.
11.58
I phoned Bish. He hung up.
11.59
The voices stopped.
I was hungry.
My slippers smelled.
I lay down on the deck and looked up at the night sky and listened to the sound of the sea in the darkness.
The tide was going out.
