Today, Americans all over the world, well, mainly in America, will be making a big decision: electing an imperfect man or a creepily smiling robot who is programmed to care only about rich, white people. I confess to feeling quite anxious about the outcome of this whole decision process.
Of course, I care about this because I am half American (50% American + 50% British = 100% sexy). But more importantly, I am a citizen of the world, and this election will have global ramifications. Don’t believe me? I’ve got two words for you: Pippa Middleton. In her own country, no one gives a rat’s patooie about her, not even her own parents. But in America, she’s still showing up in celeb magazines, ergo she has a reason to keep on living, so don’t you tell me that what happens in America has no effect beyond its borders. Therefore, as some polling stations in the US begin to close up shop, I am guessing that I am not alone in feeling a bit stressed out about what’s going to occur next.
It’s too late in the day to make a difference now—I’ve offered up all the logic I could and promised all the sexual favours I never intend to honour to try to get people to see the light. There’s also no point in trying to make plans; the horror of a Romney victory is just too incomprehensible to deal with at the moment—let’s deal with that tragedy when it actually faces us. Despite my knowing these things in my brain, it did nothing to ease the tension I felt in my body.
Symptoms of election anxiety may include a bad tum (guilty), headache, tremors, fatigue, insomnia, tearfulness, muscle cramps, a desire to punch random people, and unruly hair. None of these symptoms responds to traditional treatment. Christopher thoughtfully topped up my morning vodka with peppermint tea, but alas it did not settle my stomach in the slightest. So he and I spent the rest of the day testing out other remedies—activities to keep us distracted—which I shall share with you forthwith.
Watch box sets of your favourite television comedies
Regardless of where they’re located or what their qualifications are, television pundits know fuck all so don’t bother gluing yourself to the news. Great television comedy writers, though, know how to make you laugh and that is always, whether you wear a blue or red tie, a good thing.
Do something physical
Moving your body will help distract your mind—try some keep fit exercises, do a little housecleaning, play table tennis, dance to music or bounce up and down as part of sexy sex. Do not, however, go outside of the house. If the election is called while you’re out, you may be at risk against the possible zombie apocalypse.
Play a game
Christopher and I invented an election-themed game called ‘You Choose.’ One person presents a dilemma to the other and if that person’s choice matches theirs, they win. Some suggestions: Corrie or Eastenders? Fizzy or still? Stones or Beatles? Black Cats or Magpies? Automatic or stick? UK Gold or UK Gold +1? You can up the ante by making it a drinking game or going for a ‘strip’ version. To be honest, I don’t really understand how you make those rules work but what I do know is somehow I’ve ended up rather drunk and down to my skivvies, and I’ve still got a smile on my face.
Cower
It’s not fun or flash, but curling up into the foetal position in the corner of a room will get you through. If there is a recount or major delay in the results announcement, though, do not attempt to cower for longer than twelve hours at a time.
Do your best to get through, my friends. It’s going to be a long night. And just in case the worst happens and we wake to a dramatically changed world, just know this: I love you and no one can take that away from us.
Everyone Needs an Algonquin 
Agatha’s Public Chimes In