Jessica Alfieri
writes everything you see here.
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Finally
It didn’t occur to me as I tossed and turned until 3:00 last night this morning, but I’ve been treating today like Christmas, building up to it with excitement for weeks.
The only difference? It’s the most important Christmas since Jesus.
(And? I’ve probably never thought about a single Christmas this exclusively for five months straight. And I’ve definitely never wanted to stop thinking about Christmas this much.)
Unfortunately, last night’s nervous excitement didn’t make it any easier to get to the tree the polls this morning at 5:50. Or to stand there among elbowy idiots. Or be wrangled by screaming, ignorant volunteers*. Or to stomach the queen who loudly waited just behind us with his boyfriend, who had no sense of personal space and at one point sidled up to my husband, to, I don’t know, cuddle? He really made our morning. Thanks, sexy!
My point is, while this election may have brought out some really nice things in a lot of people, the process of voting absolutely brings out the worst. (Okay, maybe not the worst.) The yelling and clawing (yeah, perpetuated by a particular poll worker) was a surprising display at this hour. But some people will always try to skirt the rules, skip the line, and push their way through in a manner most unfitting this democratic tradition.
This is the line ahead of us in its calmer form, pre-6:00. The crowd behind us filled up about three times the size of this group.
And there we stood at 5:55, 6:15, and 6:45, with about a hundred others, waiting to cast a ballot in the most important election since Democratic candidate Sliced Bread was elected in 1925.
Now all I have to do is hope that tomorrow still feels like Christmas, and not the doom and gloom of disappointment.
*(A while ago, I sent in an application to be a poll worker. Hoping to be part of this election in a different way, I figured I’d volunteer. … Fortunately, due to legacy workers, and whatever else, my application was ignored and I do not have to spend sixteen hours with this gaggle of inefficient women today.)
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