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Tweet loudly; throw a temper tantrum for an election lost

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I stayed up late, not sure when I finally knocked out. The TV remained on throughout the night, a habit I picked up whenever there’s a major storm – natural or political. The volume remained just above a whisper, allowing me to perk up whenever an important update is made. An anxiety boiled in my stomach, almost reminiscent of the 2016 election. The feeling ate at me, no matter how much I tried to deny it. (I’ve written this before, haven’t I?)

Sitting at work, I had my computer open to MSNBC, Twitter, and FiveThirtyEight. My coworker approached me, asking if everything was all right.

“I’m worried, you know?”

She nodded, though misunderstood the source of my anxiety. Covid-19 has run our lives these last several months, and now the library was on the brink of reopening our department, spiking our risk of exposure.

“No, not that. Well that too, but this. All of this,” I responded.

After all, it was Tuesday, November 3, 2020. “I’m not going to get any sleep,” I admitted. “Going to need loads of coffee tomorrow. This whole week, maybe.”

“He’s going to win,” she said. “I can feel it.”

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