Calling all girls

I had a bad case of voter's panic. I almost stayed home. How could I go when I still had no idea who I wanted? I had an argument for Hillary and Barack. My son threatened my life if I didn't cast my vote for Obama. I don't succumb to threats that easily however. I drove myself crazy on the ride to the polling place. Clinton, Obama, Clinton, Obama...I didn't have a clue. And I'm the fool who watched every Sunday morning talk show, and read every New York Times Op-Ed column. I had to know, but I didn't. Crap. My fear of multiple choice questions must have kicked in also. I could always make a case for each option. I flunked a lot of tests obviously. Give me an essay question and I'll give you an answer.

I walked in the polling place undecided; perhaps I'd have some last minute epiphany or maybe I could cheat and read off of someone else's paper. That prevented me from leaving an Earth Science test in college completely blank. I flunked anyway. There I was with two sheets of candidates, a #2 pencil and no answers. I filled in everything but the choice for President . Quite honestly I had no idea who anyone was. I had some name recognition via media ads but couldn't remember anything about them. Anita Alvarez, Larry Suffredin, Tom someone...who are you? I devised a plan. It was the only way I was going to get out of my cubicle with any marks on my paper. I would vote for all the women; a "you go girls" ballot. It just seemed right. I was still one answer short , the one I left for last, Hillary or Barack? Should I continue my all girl vote? I was freaked. Pick one, I yelled at myself. Spin around three or four times and land on a name. That of course risked being taken away tied to a stretcher. I stared at the two names for either an hour or a minute; I lost track. Whose idea was a primary anyway? And could I order a cocktail? Was it this hard for everyone? It felt too difficult, which perhaps meant it felt hopeful. Like I said, "you go girls".