Captain Whingey

One of my biggest vices is a propensity to whinge; and it's something I do all too often, to anyone who'll listen. Actually it's mostly to people who don't particularly want to listen, but don't want to be rude.

At the very least I try to keep it out of this blog, because hell, there's enough whiny bloggers out there without me jumping in. But I've had a crap morning, and I need to "blog" it out of my system. Please keep in mind though that my tiredness does influence rants like this.

I was sent to the Commonwealth Law Courts this morning to hear whether the High Court would grant Bradley Murdoch leave to appeal his conviction for the murder of Peter Falconio. First of all, my microphones were confiscated by security when I entered. There's a general understanding that you don't use recording devices in court - every other court I've been to knows that journos tend to respect that and let you through with your equipment. But not here. Anyway, I then asked an official at the information desk which court the hearing was in, as I didn't want to stuff up and go to the wrong one. She said "Level 7, Court 2". I took the elevator -surrounded by barristers in their antiquated robes and horsehair wigs - to Level 7, Court 2. I found a seat and waited for proceedings to begin. They did, but it wasn't Murdoch, it was a Northern Territory land rights disagreement. The newsroom had told me there were other matters on, so I simply tried to stay awake (a tough ask in the sleepy atmosphere of court) until Murdoch came on.

You may have spotted where this is heading.

At 10:25am, the judges announced a brief adjournment, and I left the courtroom. At that point, people started streaming out of Court 1. Media people that I recognised. Shit.

I was in the wrong court the whole time.

I felt completely incompetent. Thankfully the other journos passed on the details (the High Court denied Murdoch's leave to appeal, so he's behind bars for good now), so I was able to report back in to the office. I restricted my self-hate to a few internal tears before heading back down to reception to claim my microphones.

I had found the confiscation odd, but it only became reprehensible when the female security guard called another security guard down to "escort" me from the building. She wouldn't even hand me my mics until I had crossed through the exit door. Could NOT believe it. I felt like a freaking criminal. But not even a good criminal. An incompetent criminal.

I'm just a bit over work at the moment. My week-long holiday in Vanuatu coming up is very much needed - even if it does mean missing an advance screening of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" at MovieWorld.

Hopefully the Briz Improv Fest this weekend will raise my spirits - it should be good to do something creative all weekend. Make sure you check out the website to see what shows are on. I'll be hanging around all weekend, and playing in the "Best of the Fest" show 7:30pm Sunday (special guest judge Spencer Howson from ABC 61p breakfast!)