First Person Politics: Dispatch From Hillaryland.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. That's what I kept telling myself late into election night. Nov. 8, 2016 was my 35th birthday and I firmly expected a Hillary Clinton victory. I didn't put much stock into the national polling that said Hillary had a 13 percent national lead. I wasn't expecting a landslide or a squeaker, but a solid convincing win.
So there I was in my Hillary shirt (you know the one: with the H and the arrow in it), as the minutes and then hours ticked by, my mouth agape in disbelief as more and more counties in swing states came in red on the CNN map. It was still early, some of my friends were telling me. The heavily populated districts take longer to count votes and they lean more heavily Democratic; same with the western states. The mood from my fellow Democrats was one of shock and horror, which grew into a panic as more states got called for Trump. I fell asleep in a confused and desperate fog, and that's how I officially entered middle age.
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