Good morning! At least it is for us all, but not for Theresa.
Imagine you are the daughter of a priest.
You enter the conservative party at the university.
You are agitating in the London suburbs, exhibiting in the Labor District, two times you lose misreably
Finally, you are lucky – you are sent to a freshly-cut district without favorites, you are young and beautiful, and you win the election.
For twelve years you have been sitting and enduring the Laborites in power, the party around you resembles a jar of snakes and spiders, but you know how to wait.
Everything, Blair and Brown are gone, and you are Home Secretary.
You drive in, cut financing, deport, heal the country and the economy.
Brexit! Congratulations, you are the leader of the conservative party. What can go wrong?
EVERYTHING!
The Prime Minister of the Fifth largest economy in the world, the founder of NATO, a nuclear power, a permanent member of the Security Council, close ally of the USA.
And you lead conservatives to the lose their seats, a bearded Marxist wearing glasses calls you “fool”, Rees-Mogg insults you in Latin, there is no place to tighten the nuts on the economy, Brussel hotels refuse lodging you, Merkel does not come out to greet you, party members hiss in the back …
And the whole country, thanks to The Sun (and a couple of other newspapers), discusses, how your bodyguard capture and clear toilets in a gas station for you just so you don’t have to meet anyone.
Yeah, good morning.