Looking good, champ!
Another grueling race (virtually) in the bag. A big, shiny check-mark for the fabled win column.
There’s nothing wrong with savoring this hard-earned moment — basking in the validation of the citizenry entrusting you to be their white knight here on Capitol Hill.
Unless, of course, one were to get completely carried away and begin behaving like a three-sheets-to-the-wind wastoid barreling through the various stages of drinking.
Euphoria Momentary adulation does not convey carte blanche to do/say whatever the hell pops into your endorphin-soaked mind.
Loose-cannon campaigner Mike Donnelly can certainly attest to that cold hard reality. Excitement Being on top of the world (momentarily, anyway) does not relieve you of the responsibility of staying somewhat grounded.
Confidence is medium Rep. Thomas Jefferson Johnson would back me up on this one (for the right amount of dough).
Confusion Right about now, things may be coming at you pretty fast. No shame in admitting you’re not crystal clear on what exactly is going on.
Like Mama Grizzly always says, “Fake it till you, uh, you know, get a reality show” (or something to that effect).
Stupor Becoming overwhelmed is perfectly natural.
Venting every now and then, I’m sure feckless election saboteur Jim McAllister would agree, is preferable to allowing unresolved issues to fester.
Coma Shoulda hit the dump valve earlier, sport.
At this stage you’re dangerously close to punching out, Dave Kovic-style.
Death Ahhh, sweet release.
Or, as involuntary revolutionary Miles Monroe sees it, the least embarrassing of life’s climactic episodes.
So, live it up! Just not for too long.
Because there’s only 730-odd days until the next insanely stressful popularity contest rolls around…
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