Today I waited for the phone to ring. It would have been a nurse, calling to discuss my recovery and answer questions about the dilators. (I can answer questions about my experience with them, if anyone is curious.)
45 minutes later, the phone had not rung. I swore a little to my Gentle Caller, and headed out to pick up a package and do my civic duty.
For all the trouble it caused, the package was ultimately simple. I presented the slip, the guy retrieved it, I signed for it.
Then I went to vote.
I was afraid there would be a queue. I was afraid that I might not be registered.
I was found in the great book of voters, and signed in. I got the slip with the little code to enter a vote on the machine. I was pointed to the far machine, with a chair.
The UI was a dial and a few buttons for forward and back and such. I made my selections. I went to submit my vote.
The machine lit up with a bright error, and screeching. It had lost communication with the printer. The screen instructed me to fetch a poll worker. I raised my hand.
Someone came over. I showed the error, and did my best to explain at what point the process had halted without having used one of these before. (Previously have been the mailed early ballots.)
I had not heard the printer, just screeching. Another poll worker was fetched. He guessed it was probably a loose connection, and set about disassembling the booth for percussive maintenance.
"I'm not looking at your ballot," he advised me, and I observed this to be true. He whacked and jiggled. The printer and entry tablet regained knowledge of each other, and a printing sound emanated. I compared my entries to the printed receipt, and found it good. I submitted my vote, requested my sticker, and stepped out into the sunset to take a post-vote selfie.
Upon reaching home, I saw that the nurse had emailed. It would have been helpful to tell me to not wait for a call...
I poked Purple, who was up for dinner. We talked uneasily about the election. We finished eating, and held terrified hands over the table.
Mama had emailed Tay and me first thing in the morning to remind us to vote. I sent her my stickered selfie.
Upon reaching home, I snuggled up to my Gentle Caller in chat and we stared at the results together.
Tonight, more than ever, it was necessary for us to hold each other as much as possible via the internet. I would be in their arms if I could. Alas, geography. Instead I will hold my nearby friends as I can.
My uterus is gone. It cannot be put back in me.
45 minutes later, the phone had not rung. I swore a little to my Gentle Caller, and headed out to pick up a package and do my civic duty.
For all the trouble it caused, the package was ultimately simple. I presented the slip, the guy retrieved it, I signed for it.
Then I went to vote.
I was afraid there would be a queue. I was afraid that I might not be registered.
I was found in the great book of voters, and signed in. I got the slip with the little code to enter a vote on the machine. I was pointed to the far machine, with a chair.
The UI was a dial and a few buttons for forward and back and such. I made my selections. I went to submit my vote.
The machine lit up with a bright error, and screeching. It had lost communication with the printer. The screen instructed me to fetch a poll worker. I raised my hand.
Someone came over. I showed the error, and did my best to explain at what point the process had halted without having used one of these before. (Previously have been the mailed early ballots.)
I had not heard the printer, just screeching. Another poll worker was fetched. He guessed it was probably a loose connection, and set about disassembling the booth for percussive maintenance.
"I'm not looking at your ballot," he advised me, and I observed this to be true. He whacked and jiggled. The printer and entry tablet regained knowledge of each other, and a printing sound emanated. I compared my entries to the printed receipt, and found it good. I submitted my vote, requested my sticker, and stepped out into the sunset to take a post-vote selfie.
Upon reaching home, I saw that the nurse had emailed. It would have been helpful to tell me to not wait for a call...
I poked Purple, who was up for dinner. We talked uneasily about the election. We finished eating, and held terrified hands over the table.
Mama had emailed Tay and me first thing in the morning to remind us to vote. I sent her my stickered selfie.
Upon reaching home, I snuggled up to my Gentle Caller in chat and we stared at the results together.
Tonight, more than ever, it was necessary for us to hold each other as much as possible via the internet. I would be in their arms if I could. Alas, geography. Instead I will hold my nearby friends as I can.
My uterus is gone. It cannot be put back in me.