Met with the head of my national security team around 5AM, as per usual.

Bailey prefers our meetings to take place while we’re in motion, so we circumnavigated the park as we did the daily threat assessment.

We seem to largely still be in sync regarding priorities.

This was clearly ratified by her: Woof!

I remain unconvinced at best, however, with respect to her policy on geese—which I think is diverting excessive resources from more important matters.

But we continue to dialog about this.

My Department of Education hasn’t been functioning as smoothly as I had initially hoped it would, which has led me to consider changes in the management team.  Given how complicated the confirmation process has been, however, I am a little anxious about not introducing “too much change, too fast.”

My consultant in this arena remains almost obsessively focused on, Dad, put on a pair of pants; you’re gonna fucking make me late for school again!

I take this critique under advisement and promise to respond at the soonest possible moment.

While one doesn’t want to get sucked into “blame shifting” I am increasingly convinced that my Diplomatic Corps has simply not been doing an effective job.

Recent attempts—over a period of some eighteen months now—to liaise with The Primary Constituent continue to be met with a somewhat brusque, “In your dreams, Fat Boy!”

I take this to mean that issues remain to be resolved—although I am, in an ongoing way, unable to fathom what they could possibly be.

I am beginning to seriously contemplate permitting UN intervention in this matter.

One does not make such a call lightly—given the delicate issues of sovereignty potentially at stake—but the lack of progress on this front has been increasingly vexing.

The Supplementary Nutritional Assistance Program also appears to be faltering and food shortages are, in my view, increasingly dire.

In a somewhat “out of area” interjection, my Department of Education consultant has gently suggested that “It’s called a diet, you moron!” but I remain convinced that there are supply chain issues that a good logistics team could dispatch in short order.

Unfortunately, I am coming to accept that my administration has not been “attracting the talent we need” to deal with the level of problems we are juggling.

There has also been something of a rebellion in the Department of the Interior, apparently related to policy disagreements over land management.

The Primary Constituent has been increasingly voluble, taking the intractable position that, “You’re going to mow the lawn or you’re going to sleep in the garage for the next month!  Try me!”

My attempt to point out that—somewhat excessive, and loud, accusations regarding, “vermin, ticks, and waist-high grass” notwithstanding—this contemplated “eviction without due process” might also trigger serious facilities management issues was . . . not well received.

Outside counsel is problematic; I understand that.

An administration that too often or too lightly takes recourse, in serious areas of decision making, to people “not officially part of the cabinet,” people who have not gone through a thorough vetting process, should be prepared for some degree of blow-back.

I will confess, perhaps having come to this understanding somewhat belatedly, that one would also do well to pay serious attention to the PR skills of such consultants and supporters.

There is a management issue here to be sure—and perhaps as well something of a branding quandary.

One takes political support where one finds it after all.

Was I somewhat blinded by badinage?

Perhaps.

Following the advice of Barry the Bartender—Baron of Beef, Viscount of Vodka, Confidante of the Classy—may have been a bit of a lapse in judgment on my part, a giving-in to an alliterative assault.

Even the greatest of leaders?

We have our little foibles and weak spots; it’s only right to admit that.

Clearly, at least in this instance, outside counsel led me astray; that’s how I see it anyway.

I had not been aware that we had shifted to a parliamentary system, but such would seem to be the case: I’m not sure how else to interpret the preponderance of my possessions having ended up on the front lawn, other than to accept that my government had received a summary but decisive vote of “no confidence.”

In the end, of course, there is no arguing with The Primary Constituent. 

But having been sent into the political wilderness—or, at any rate the park, my trusty national security advisor by my side—I am committed to “working my way back into power.”

Churchill did it! 

No reason I can’t do it too.

Clearly Bailey and I will first have to come to some accommodation on this policy disagreement regarding the geese.