Electoral FOMO...

Oooh I do love me an election. The absolute opposite of Brenda from Bristol, I'm aways giddy when I get to exercise my democratic right. Last Thursday the local elections took place. I'll be honest, I hadn't heard of any of the candidates. My current home that's located on the edge of several boundaries - council, constituency, town and county - means I never feel fully part of the community I vote in. But that makes not a jot of difference. I read up on the candidates involved, despair slightly at the lack of political choice in the area, but cross the box with the thrill that comes from knowing it's a basic right that was denied both my Grandmothers until their adult lives. I would crawl over broken glass to get to that voting booth. I love feeling that I'm taking part in something historical. I'm a tiny cog in a small wheel, that keeps the bigger parts of democracy turning. It never gets old.

Obviously in recent years, the turning wheels of democracy have stuck a bit. Some might say they are broken. Whether it's electoral law-breaking, the rise in far right politics, or the fact that no one in any position of political power knows what to do about the madness of Brexit, it's all a bit knackered. Yeah, I said Brexit. I went there. Again. I'll admit that taking pride in voting in the local elections of a place I feel quite distant from, could put me off the whole thing. But it really hasn't.

Soz John. I'll try and calm it now.

For some, recent political discourse has meant disengagement from the news. People are bored of the empty promises or the posturing threats, so they turn off. They stop caring, and they recognise that their lives are better off without the stress of keeping up with the millions of twists that the news cycle takes. But for others - for me -  the opposite is true. The news becomes a drug; each bulletin or tweeted story is a fix, meaning a greater and greater hit is needed just to feel alive. Initially, following Laura Kuenssberg and BBC News was enough for me. Now, I'm reading minute by minute updates from a whole host of journalists and political commentators, and hanging on for the end of the week until the Remaniacs podcast drops. I can't get enough of the analysis. I want to be there as it happens. I'm more involved in political discourse than I ever thought I could be.

Taken on 2nd May at my local primary school.
I panicked about rules surrounding cameras,
so made sure there was absolutely no
background included at all. In hindsight,
I could have got this from the internet.

So you can imagine my crushing disappointment when I realised I was on holiday for the European Elections. From the day before, to the day after, I'll be in a countryside cottage with my family. It will be marvellous fun, but will also mean I'm nowhere near the local primary school that doubles as a polling station for May 23rd. Obviously, it's not all bad news. It appears to be really easy to get a postal vote. As soon as I realised I'd be away, I sent off the form. But even though my vote will count along with everyone else's, all the fun has been taken away. Walking into the building, handing over the card, and taking the form into the booth. There is nothing better.* I know for some people, I'm talking nonsense, but it really does give me chills. If I'd been born a hundred years earlier, then come election day, I'd have been sat at home, wondering what decisions the rich men of the country were making. There are times, I'll admit, when it feels we're not much further on from that. But we are. And if it only feels like we are on the day of an election, when I get to draw a cross on a piece of paper and push it through a slot in a box, then it's better than nothing. I'll take that any time. 

Even though I'm missing the thrill of the polling booth on 23rd May, I'm sure it won't be long before there's another opportunity to take part in democracy. A confirmatory vote on a final Brexit deal? A General Election? A referendum on whether we should ever have a referendum again? There'll be something soon, I'm sure. But until then, I'll leave the thrills to the people that can make it to their local primary schools and mobile voting stations on the day. Enjoy every second of the entire process. It's your right.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Of course there are things better; a massive bubble bath, walking along a blustery beach in an oversized jumper, a homemade, fresh-from-the-oven bakewell tart. But please allow me my hyperbole. I really like voting in a voting booth. It makes me feel part of the election night news. I was involved. I turned up. I am a kingmaker! (What's that? You want me to shut up? Ah OK, message received.)