I woke up this Election Day like a kid on Christmas morning. My eyes fluttered open, hours before I usually awake. I excitedly pulled back the covers and scampered from bed. I showered and dressed in a handful of minutes. I was eager to get to the polls and make my vote count.
Like a child on Christmas morning, I was plagued with cravings. I desired a gift I’d been dreaming of for years. And, unexpectedly, I hungered for a food that could match my dreams of a sweeter future.
In a word, I craved donuts.
From the minute my eyes opened, I hungered for powdered sugar and fried dough. When I took my shower, I imagined a pink box filled with frosted crullers, honeydews, chocolate donuts, and Boston Creams. As I dressed before my mirror, I schemed. The only justification for something as decadent as donuts, is to share them with as many people possible; truly, a shared sin is a much easier sin to bear. So what better place to succumb to the peccadillo of donut eating, than in a line of ballot-casting, patriotic neighbors?
I suggested my confectionary idea to my husband at the local coffee shop, but he refused to participate in my calorie-rich indiscretion. After offering to accompany me on my trip to the donut shop and observe me in dietary indulgence, I conceded to ignore my sugary craving and head straight for the polls.
Without even a crumb of fried dough in my stomach, I joined the line of men and women preparing to do their civic duty.
I carefully cast my vote, one black circle of ink at a time. When I was finished, a woman with curly hair presented me with a sticker that read “I voted” and in a sing song voice she offered, “Thank you for participating in the democratic process.”
As I left the polling station my craving for donuts left me. The only desire I can allow is my candidate winning this presidential election.