It’s the start of my second month on the campaign/convention trail. Here’s what I’m bitching and moaning about missing to my deputy campaign director, Cat Who Lives in the House I’m Staying in and Comes In and Watches Me Work All Day.
“Look, this is the exact same way Carville came up with his ’92 strategy. And not to be snippy but we’re not going to get those poll numbers moving in the right direction if you don’t gets ta scratching the belly.”
* The way my fiance smiles at me every morning when he wakes up.
* The way my dog smiles at me every morning when I wake up.
* Doing the Times crossword with my fiance. Over the phone isn’t nearly as much fun, although he did keep me from going nuts trying to remember who George Washington’s portraitist was last night.
* Meze, Cafe du Parc, and the Dupont Farmers Market.
* Saturday afternoon movies at E Street.
* Waking up in my own bed.
* Having someone there when I wake up in it in the middle of the night with nightmares.
* Getting dressed up for work. Actually, going to an office in general. God help me, I miss going to an office.
* Cooking in my kitchen.
* Reading the print copy of the Post.
* Jogging over the Taft Bridge.
* Vegetables that aren’t fried and then served with a side of butter and bacon.
* Not caring about polling numbers.
* Not having to have a PoliSci 101 conversation with everyone and their brother who finds out I’m here working for a campaign.
* Not having to care when someone tells me that they’re not voting for Obama.
* People who at least attempt to veil their racism.
* Bookstores outnumbering tanning salons.
* Watching my fiance tie his tie in the morning.
* 9:30 Club, Bourbon, my balcony for having a drink.
* My girls.
* Being goofy with my guy.
* Passing the spot where we’ll have our wedding reception every day.
* Kissing, kissing, kissing.
* Sighing with happiness.
That’s all for now. I’ll be wallowing in self-pity for the rest of the night. And scratching the cat’s belly.
UPDATE: In case you’re wondering what my smiling pooch looks like…