Post-Election Depression

What’s gonna happen when its over? When the drone of the endless pundit news programs (though, Rachel Maddow, you are the exception, with no apparent drone) quiets, when Sarah Palin’s hyjinx dissolve and John McCain’s whiney protesteth too much panicked roll of the eyes and sideways glances go the way of so many other losing presidential tickets… can you guess who I’m gonna vote for tomorrow? Holy crap, please vote if you are gonna vote for Obama/Biden. Please. And if you just can’t decide or are really into McCain and Palin, then don’t vote. Get shitfaced drunk tonight and sleep through tomorrow and forget about that silly ol’ presidential election. Because Palin ’09 is just a little bit much for me to get my tired and cranky, potty training, butt wiping, endless meal making and cleaning mama of twins brain around — EVER.

I had a horrible nightmare Obama did not win this election two nights ago. And the only thing I could do in that dream was weep. Weep like I just lost everyone I ever loved. I cried and cried. Please don’t make me cry, America, I’m a mom.

xo J


  1. you said what I was thinking – A. what will I do when the election is over? and B. Please please let Obama win – it’s so hard to move all the way to New Zealand on such short notice! I love my Juliette.

  2. I like the plea to not make you cry–you’re a mom. Amen. I cried driving around town today seeing No on 8 signs. One man held a sign that said “No on 8; say no to hate” and I thought about this country has been dragged, by the Supreme Court, into a reality where African-Americans are full-fledged citizens with the right to vote and marry whomever they want. And become President. And in 50 years, we’ll say that about other groups that society has discounted and silenced. A President who happens to be a woman. A President who happens to be gay. A President who happens to be Latina. A President who happens to be Asian.

    I wish more people were talking about how historic it is to have a President elected with a huge turnout of young and otherwise silent voters. This person inspired a voice for those who usually sit out American politics. I don’t care that he’s black, as all of the pundits seem to this evening. I care that he inspired people.

    When I pushed to button, I cried. When I let my son file the ballot for me, I cried. And when he asked me why I was crying I told him that this was an important election. That I as happy and worried, because I really wanted the person who was going to be our boss to be a good, good person.

    I think we did it.

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