Can things only get better?

On the Saturday night I drowned my sorrows at a friend's party in Bethnal Green and ended up staying the night. The next morning the whole house was woken by a woman screaming in the middle of the Bethnal Green Road. We ran to the window to see what the commotion was.

'You stupid idiots!' she was shouting. 'You stupid fucking idiots! You voted her back in! Can't you see what you've done! You stupid idiots!' Between the ranting she was crying. She did not look like the sort of woman who normally walked in front of oncoming traffic screaming and swearing, but the election result had clearly precipitated some sort of breakdown. One of the girls in the house was shocked. 'I know that woman,' she said. 'She goes to my evening class. She's really quiet and shy.'

But she was only saying what I wanted to say.

Things Can *Only* Get Better by John O'Farrell. This was in the aftermath of the 1987 general election. I can't think of a better summary of how I am feeling.