After getting elected to parliament at the first go - so to speak - and getting the additional prize of being made Parliamentary Secretary for Fooling Some of the People Some of the Time, today I and my bride of 11 months, Angelika, are invited to a 'do' in my electoral district.
It's a double celebration of our electoral victory and of my elevation to high office. Wow! Angelika is frightfully good with the older constituents and smiles a lot and shakes their hands. Yes, of course, she wore gloves, I warned her beforehand.
Monday
I still have to work from my cupboard under the stairs office at the Ministry for Obfuscation. But the permanent sec assures me that when we move to our new offices in the former St Luke's Hospital, I'll get an office entirely in keeping with my status. Yes, he tells me I shall soon occupy the old autopsy room. Er...
Tuesday
When I arrive home from my cupboard, my mother-in-law is there and demands to know why, after just over 11 months of marital bliss, Angelika is not, erm, pregnant. I feel this is not the time to go into the efficacy or otherwise of the contraceptive pill, so I reply: All in good time. She retorts: "Is that a gentle way of telling me you're impotent?" Absolutely not! It's my way of saying: (a) We are careful and (b) I can't afford to start a family on a Parliamentary Sec's salary. OK?
Wednesday
Today is a big day for me. I had to stand up in parliament and defend my minister - who is abroad on some Euro freebie - against accusations of absenteeism and corruption. I tell the House, it's a lie, he's a lovely man. He lets me sit in his office when he's not there, which is most of the time, and play with his stack of pirated video games. Why are opposition members giggling?
Thursday
My mother-in-law has been at it again. When I get home this evening my bride tells me her mummy called round. Now she's not only concerned that her elder daughter is not yet in-the-club, she's also agitating for Angelika and I to move house to, what she sees as, more suitable surroundings. Angelika says: "Mummy feels that the wife of an important politician shouldn't be living in a 17th century converted stable in a village. She wants us to move to an up market villa in Swieqi. Daddy's family owns a magnificent one and as soon as he can evict the tenants, we could move in."
But I like it here and - as I tell Angelika - we've got lovely neighbours. On one side is the chief cashier at the Naxxar branch of Banco Ambrosiano, and on the other is Grezzju who breeds goats for the Arabs. Why move?
Friday
Today my minister details me to explain to Mepa (No, not that one, this one stands for Malta's Embittered Pensioners Association) why we, the government, are contemplating halving all government pensions. I explain to their committee that it's for the greater good of the country, since we can no longer afford to subsidise clapped-out old people who are going to die soon anyway. Yes, I think I handled that rather well.
Saturday
Even though today is supposed to be a day off, I am willing and eager to do my minister's bidding by crossing to Gozo. I have to explain to the main man in the Gozo trade union movement that, even though we've only been back in power a few weeks, the government is already fulfilling its promises to Gozitan workers.
He replies: "Oh really, name one." Quick as a flash, I do just that. We promised we'd get back into power and we did. Well, we did, so why's he laughing and shaking his head?