Those who say that both Hillary and her opponent were equally bad are perplexing to me. I struggle to understand and empathize with their viewpoints. And I think they’re fools. They might not like Clinton, but when you have a choice to choose between somebody who knows what they’re doing and has the cool resolve to lead in a troubled world compared and a hotheaded businessman who singlehandedly keeps the self tanning industry alive, I’m flabbergasted that anybody would struggle making a decision. And when you could literally choose between anybody and somebody who proudly discussed grabbing women by the pussy…how could you make a wrong choice?
The blizzard was not nearly as severe as all the weather forecasters had predicted, but the fact that I had to suffer in this insufferable way was simply too much for me. Forlornly, I made my way to the little cafe in the lobby of the Jane Hotel. I glowered at the freshly painted walls, signed wistfully at the memory of the Café Gitane’s lost nearness, scowled when I was told that they didn’t have an espresso machine, haughtily accepted drip coffee, and took a seat beside the windows whilst waiting for overpriced avocado toast to arrive. I was insufferable. The toast was actually great. I love a seedy bread.
It feels awfully peculiar knowing that I won’t be in dangerous territories, that I won’t be eating Parisian pastries for a month, that I won’t be lost in some horrible city where I don’t speak the language. That is the kind of thing I thrive on…I’m going to start furiously googling colleges and things to do in America that might be a bit off the beaten path. Maybe I’ll hike the Grand Canyon. Or perhaps I will drive to Mexico City! Or maybe I’ll rent a shack on a beach and write a book? Or maybe I’ll do none of this and learn to enjoy relaxation and the luxury of an empty schedule. I don’t know. We’ll see.