It’s now four days until Election Day, and things are in warp drive. Today a lot of people are calling up and screaming at me because we dared to attack an opponent and it was “dirty, negative campaigning.”
“But ma’am, were you this upset when the other candidates were attacking us?” I say sweetly. Because really, almost everyone loves dirty campaigning - as long as it’s not affecting their guy. Well, we’ve taken our hits and now it’s time for them to take theirs.
Then I take a call from someone who threatens to have “50, 60 people” demonstrating outside one of tomorrow’s events. Ho hum, all in a day’s work.
The guy in the next cube amuses himself by making up fake names and asking belligerent callers bizarre questions. He sounds like something out of a “MAD TV” skit.
And everyone on the campaign has finally given up any pretense at eating a balanced diet. The field organizers? They don’t eat all day, then show up at the office at night with Diet Coke, chips, pretzels and candy. Iced coffee, too. Ibuprofen and caffeine round off the rest of the major food groups. We’re out of water for the office cooler, so that’s out. (No one wants to stop what they’re doing long enough to order more.)
Tonight I come home to heat up a small container of Chef Boyardee ravioli, topped off with what’s left in a container of stale icing. Oh, and a strawberry - to prevent scurvy, I tell myself, feeling virtuous.
Four days. Arghhh.
