Advent Calendar Day 2 - November 13
Excerpt from How to Cry on Your Bicycle, short essays by Jennaye Derge
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Please Perfectly Fill in the Bubbles
Today I voted. It took longer for me to fill out my ballot than I’d expected, longer than I’d like to admit to any of my friends or family, but nonetheless, I received my “I voted” sticker and I’ve never felt more relieved.
I felt more relief than excitement because, although I’ve always believed in democracy, I spent weeks avoiding my mail-in ballot as it got covered by junk mail, magazines, and whatever else I threw on my Bermuda Triangle coffee table. But just knowing it was there, untouched, flamed my guilt and became a beacon of my procrastination.
Okay, yes, it’s me! I shouted in my head every time I passed the coffee table and saw my name in print on the unopened envelope. It’s me who hasn’t voted! And once I started outwardly seething with this guilt, the whole world seemed to shout at me.
First, the canvassers came.
“Just checking to make sure you’ve filled out and returned your ballot!” The canvassers were usually really nice and charming and had beautiful smiles. Most of them were, strangely, attractive males about my age. I wondered if their agencies were trying a new tactic this year.
“Uhh, duh! Like of course I have, like, totally, already turned it in! Omg.” I’d giggle and twirl my hair to charm and distract the man-vassers from seeing my unopened ballot screaming from the coffee table behind me. “SHE’S LYING! HERE I AM, UNOPENED!”
The internet was worse.
“Good morning!” my email account said. “Have you voted yet?”
Google yelled at me to vote in various languages many times over. “HAVE YOU VOTED YET????”
The full content of the internet was shrieking at me.
“FILL ME OUT!” my ballot screamed from the coffee table.
“REMEMBER TO VOTE!” I swore I heard the man-vasser say outside my door.
I rubbed my throbbing head and closed my laptop.
I paced my house and then opened my laptop again.
I had work to do.
I needed to do some research. It was pretty obvious who I’d choose for president, but I still needed to know about amendments, propositions, senators, and judges.
I formed my opinions, chose my sides, and grabbed a blue or black pen.
The moment had come, and there I sat at the Bermuda Triangle coffee table, hands sweating and shaky, ready to make my voice heard, ready to make sure this terrible man didn’t become our president. I read the instructions carefully, like I do any official form, and paused at “Please perfectly fill out these bubbles.”
“What does ‘perfectly’ mean?” My hands shook even more. “What if I accidentally make a wrong mark? There is a lot riding on this election. Will he become president because of my mistake?”
My nerves were getting the best of me.
“All you have to do is fill me out,” my ballot tried to assure me. “JUST FILL ME OUT!”
When I finally finished and signed and dated the envelope, I placed the pen down carefully, wiped off my sweat, and sighed in relief. I did it. I perfectly filled in the bubbles.
Read more of these humorous and heartfelt essays in HOW TO CRY ON YOUR BICYCLE AND OTHER PRACTICAL LESSONS, the collection from author Jennaye Derge.
Get 13% off this title until midnight Mountain time tonight, Thursday, November 13.
Also until the end of today, order any three Casa Urraca Press books and receive a free canvas book tote.
About the Author
Jennaye Derge is a writer, photographer, and very average bicycle rider. She has been a passionate bicycle commuter, publisher of Ride Your Bike! Zine, and developer of Bike Durango, an organization helping people ride bicycles more and drive cars less.
You can learn about her and her projects on her website and on Instagram @jennaye_d.