I don’t know whether to…

Photo credit: Centre Electronique Horloger (CEH), Neuenburg, 1967

For more than a year, we’ve been knee-deep in election coverage. We’ve endured debate after debate after debate. The pundits have analyzed the pea turkey out of every minute detail. The polls, oh…the polls.

Families and friends quit speaking to each other. Social media exploded with hate, bigotry, and vitriol. Urban militias were formed. Women scratched at the glass ceiling, much like a dog at the back door. The disgruntled called for revolution. The hopeful tried to let love rule. The whole democratic system was called into question.

Now the big day has come and gone. The election is over. Finally.

There is only one idiom to describe my feelings after an exhausting two years. There is only one idiom for the next four years. There is only one idiom for the most unprecedented election in U.S. history. There is only one idiom appropriate for this day — the day after.

What is it?

I don’t know whether to shit or wind my wristwatch.

‘Nuff said.