"Waiting for me to do what?"
"Caucus."
"But Caucus meets on a Monday."
He took a step closer to the desk. I've known Kieran McAnulty for a long time now. Our electorates are just up the road from each other, so we've got pretty familiar over the years. We get on. But I couldn't believe my eyes when he reached out and snatched one of my Shrewsburys.
"Mate," he said, "it is Monday."
"Don't be silly," I said. "It's Tuesday."
He took a small bite of that reassuring and delicious biscuit, swallowed, and said, "It's Monday."
I opened up my phone and checked.
"I'm prepared to accept that sometimes I get ahead of myself," I said.
He took another bite of his biscuit.
"Small and insignificant details can sometimes get lost in the vision for a brighter future," I said.
He swallowed the rest of his biscuit.
I took a Shrewsbury off the saucer but he reached over and gave my wrist a slap. "No time for that," he said. "Come on. Let's go."
TUESDAY
After yesterday's slip-up I was determined to keep things on a steady track, but the day got off to a bad start when I discovered that the staff kitchen had run out of Shrewsburys.
I remembered that I'd left two of the biscuits on my desk when I ran to caucus, and a full day of meetings meant I'd never returned to my office. But when I walked in, I saw that they'd gone – and yet the cold cup of tea was still there.
I sat down, sighed, and tore into some work. Busy week. Orange setting. Brighter future! New rules about masks. So many rules! And so many small and insignificant details.
I put aside the briefings and the recommendations and the talking points, and looked out the window towards a brighter future.
No masks in schools – children are our future, and they must learn resilience. No masks on public transport – that seems a bit pointless. No masks in supermarkets – that'd be a nuisance for everyone. Probably no masks on flights but that's up to Air New Zealand. Definitely no masks in nightclubs! Nightclubs are where you go to pash, according to my sources.
WEDNESDAY
Looking back on it, I'm not entirely sure when things started going horribly wrong at the 1pm Covid conference but I get the feeling that as soon as things did start to go horribly wrong they just kept going horribly wrong, and it had something to do with small and insignificant details about masks.
I crept back to the office. All I wanted was a nice hot cup of tea, a Shrewsbury, and a lie-down, but there were still no biscuits in the staff kitchen.
"Do I have to do everything around here!" I roared, and then had a lie-down.
THURSDAY
I tore through work today to get everything finished so I could relax and enjoy a long Easter weekend.
On the way home I thought I'd better stock up on a few things at the supermarket. Namely, Shrewsbury biscuits. That little red dot of jam somehow speaks to me.
They'd sold out.