The Morning’s Sickness

I am in a spin of anxiety. Between the election and this pregnancy thing I don’t think I can take it much longer. Three more days to wait on one, and twelve on the other. It’s killing me. In today’s NYT was an article outlining how John McCain could still win. It discussed Biden’s monstrously stupid gaffe, Barack’s unfortunate “spread the wealth” statement, and the unpredictability of the “Bradley Effect” on voters. It reminded us that Florida is close, and getting closer, (in McCain’s favor), all the time. It spelled out several electoral scenarios in which McCain could still prevail. It detailed historical instances of a contender coming back from exactly such odds. In short, it discouraged, frightened, and sickened every Obama supporter out there. Or at least me.

I can’t take the suspense. I don’t know how to spend my hours. I’m chewing the insides of my lips like crazy. Mike suggested that I go stay in a cabin in the woods somewhere for a few days. I looked at him like he had lost his marbles. He doesn’t seem to understand the intensity of my need to be near a computer and a television, like, all the time. (Of course not — this is a man who didn’t watch the debates because he “already knows who he’s voting for.” Hmph.) I am spending hours on Huffington Post,The Daily Dish, Slate, Wonkette, Politico. I go do the dishes, or walk the dog, or take a fitful nap, and come back and check them all again. I wait rabidly for the Daily Show to come on. I read the front page of the New York Times online, the night before it gets published. Then I read the paper version the next morning, bemoaning that there’s no “new news.” It’s a sickness. As anyone knows who checks this blog I have tried to solace myself by posting a long string of silly videos, mostly at Sarah Palin’s expense, but it’s done little to help. I still fume at her breathtaking vapidity, McCain’s deathly lack of integrity, the Republican party’s willingness to stoop to any levels, no matter how low. I celebrate each new endorsement. I mourn each drop in the polls, no matter how minute. I gnash my teeth and rend my clothing (OK, figuratively) at the stupid, shallow, wanton Americans who cannot see the truth placed so squarely before them: that if McCain/Palin wins it is Armageddon for us all.

It’s probably just as well that I’m not pregnant. Which I’m sure I’m not. The world is doomed. Despair all around. Cue the keening and wailing.

Maybe that cabin’s not such a bad idea…