I’m so far down the rabbit hole of this insanely protracted “election night” that I fear I can’t form a coherent sentence. All I can say is that it’s cozy in here, if periodically hysteria-making. I have my couch, my blanket, a big screen TV, and about a third of a big bottle of not very expensive Pinot Grigio. I eschewed the hard stuff during this weird little marathon, worried that I might pass out at a critical juncture. I don’t smoke anymore which is, at the moment, both a blessing and a disappointment. It would give me something to do besides checking my phone constantly for news I am already seeing on the TV. Right now, I am watching a big crowd of Trumpers gathered outside the Maricopa County, Arizona, central count facility. They’re chanting and waving flags while volunteers from the community are inside at this hour of the night processing ballots. It is going to be really hard to get on the reconciliation train that Joe Biden keeps talking about. Back to my hutch. I don’t want to miss anything.