Kevin Rudd’s diary, as told by The Australian:

Rose at 3am in my lavish, taxpayer-funded residence. Tortured dog by refusing to feed it and was driven to work in a hypocritical, carbon-spewing motor vehicle by an honest hard-working Australian who would have preferred to be at home in bed rather than chauffeuring me.

At the office, demanded briefing on morning papers from staff who had not yet left from their labours of the night before. Read The Oz. I despise it but I respect its intellectual rigour. Slight uptick for Turnbull in Newspoll. Shanahan, bang on the money as ever: the Liberals are on the way back and I could be headed for one-term humiliation.

Need to work longer hours. Another Albrechtsen column about Julia Gillard’s ambition, too. Have to admit, right again. Need to do a ring around Caucus to shore up my numbers. I’m not a natural Labor man. Thank goodness there’s at least one newspaper that keeps me disciplined.

Take a moment to relax — Alister has brought in a cuppa, a Weetbix with butter on it and the planned itinerary for my two-month world trip at the end of the year. If Gough can do it, so can I. I wish I was more like Gough.

What to do about Bradfield. Nelson was a nice bloke but a bit too hip for mine, with the guitar and the motor bike. Hell, I’m too scared of Turnbull even in his current state. He’ll say things like “this is a referendum on Mr Rudd.” Better dog the by-election and let the Greens and independents do our dirty, dirty work for us.

Time to head to airport for more visits to hick towns and the sort of yokels I thought I’d left behind in Nambour. Grab Lachie’s list of ocker phrases to use on this trip and head off. Sigh. I loathe this democracy stuff.