Well, it’s official. After yesterdays’s epic voting, which apparently included “sausage sizzles” in some polling stations (they may force you to vote but at least they feed you while you fill in the enormous voting slips. Probably because you’d die of low blood sugar if they didn’t) Australia now has a hung parliament.
I actually find this quite amusing. Not only is it further proof that Australia follows the UK, despite how much they refute this fact, but I think it’s karma. When there was a hung parliament in the UK, what, 3-4 months ago now? The newspapers were full of stories about how indecisive the ‘Poms’ are, as they “couldn’t even choose a government successfully”. They spent rather a lot of column inches laughing at the situation in the UK, and now they’re in the same situation.
What’s more the choice for PM is between a woman who unceremoniously booted out the previous PM 2 months before the election, taking his spot with glee, and a man who likes to spend a lot of time in budgie-smugglers. Interesting choice. Not one I’d like to be fair. So they’re both wandering around trying to sweet-talk the Green Party and various independents, much like how the Labour party and the Tories were suddenly best friends with the Lib Dems a few months ago.
Enough politics now, I think I’ve officially bored myself. Am not a big fan of politics you see.
I have started going running again. I decided that it was a good idea to get fit, and to lose some weight, to try and keep the ovaries in check. The ovaries that, in the words of my gynaecologist: “Have a rather impressive number of follicles on them.” Nobody’s mentioned the dreaded PCOS words, but having googled it, I certainly have enough follicles… Plus I have read about all the horrible complications that Asherman’s Syndrome women who get pregnant have, and so I think that the fitter I am, and the more able to survive without my normal amount of blood, the better. Scary stuff.
So off I jogged, however, I had to walk after maybe a few hundred metres clutching my throat, wheezing and saying “I’m dying! My throat’s closed up!” I also discovered that one should be very picky about the underwear one wears when running. Not just a sports bra; that much is obvious or I tend to get very sore and have to clutch my chest instead of my throat; but knickers. I was wearing some that are normally pretty comfortable, but they spent the entirety of the run getting wedged up my bum. Very uncomfortable, and rather unattractive trying to fish them out while simultaneously clutching my throat and wheezing.
Today, I’m off to visit needle-woman again, for another session of being stabbed. I’m quite looking forward to it actually, as it was so relaxing last time. However she did say that she was being very gentle last time, so I wonder what not gentle is? Perhaps approaching me with carving knives? Or shooting the needles in from across the room? We’ll see. Despite the hideous taste of the hot-chocolate-pretending chinese herbs, I do actually have a bit more energy. It can’t be from the running, I’ve only been three times…