“Hi, my name is _____. Do you have a moment to answer just a few questions about the upcoming election?”
You know the name of every single county in your state.
The love/hate relationship you have with your volunteers.
Purchasing cigarettes by the carton. #health
You’ve gone literal days without sleep. In all seriousness, you actually almost died.
Everyone you know has slept with everyone you know.
You were unnecessarily pretentious and referred to yourself as an “operative.” Give it up, you worked in the field. Just call it like it is.
That moment of pure joy when a walkbook is not only completed, but filled out correctly.
You’ve hidden under your desk. You’ve also napped under there.
Being in a perpetual state of either drunk or hungover.
You worked for morons. Pure morons.
You’ve quite literally whored yourself out for money that you didn’t even personally receive.
The West Wing and House of Cards gave you a false sense of entitlement and self-worth.
Sign blitzing. Only doable when absolutely hammered.
You’ve acted as a babysitter, a personal assistant, a life coach, a therapist, a yogi, a grief counselor, a financial advisor, and quite frankly, a little bitch.
Being awake at 4am was a regular occurrence, whether it be because of an early meeting or because you still hadn’t gone to bed.
You once wanted to run for office.
You no longer want to.
People frequently told you to get a “real job.”
No benefits. Just….none. Thank the Lord for mom and dad.
Your lifestyle was often compared to that of a gypsy, and in all seriousness, it wasn’t the worst comparison. You moved a lot, you drank a lot, and your morals were questionable at best. Expense reports that ended in multiple zeros.
Being on a first name basis with the pizza delivery boy and the McDonalds drive-thru girl.
You got fat. Like, really, really, fat.
Your older volunteers added you on Facebook…and still comment on all of your statuses.
A normal sleep schedule? What is that?
You now hate both political parties. You hate the side you worked for just a little bit less, mind you; but you do very much hate them both.
Independents are honestly just in the way. GOODBYE. Let the big kids play.
The miles you put on your car are the reason your warranty expired two years before it ever should have.
Jeep Cherokees. All day every day.
You own more t-shirts than a sorority girl. If you happened to also have been a sorority girl, you now own enough t-shirts to outfit a small European country.
Liquor on the rocks.
Coffee for breakfast, coffee for lunch, whiskey for dinner.
Your salary was such that some years you fell below the poverty line.
At some point or another, a volunteer told you “you’re working for me,” and you contemplated going to jail for assault at that very moment in time.
Politicians are assholes. Who knew? Oh, everyone? Everyone knew that? Cool.
The painful 45 minute explanation of how to phone bank to your older volunteers.
Conference calls. Morning, noon, and night. Awesome.
The “X Days Til Election Day” wall calendar you started 182 days out. It was your only friend.
The fact that you once had to explain to your candidate the difference between the House and Senate.
The “my boss is an asshole…but he’s less of an asshole than the other guy” justification you did in your head to keep you from quitting.
You lost; otherwise, you’d still be in the game. If you’re still in the game, Godspeed you sons of bitches.
Catie struggles with adulthood and has been celebrating her 21st birthday for the past three years. She attended college in the nation’s capital and to this day is angry that Pit Bull lied to her, as you cannot, in fact, party on The White House lawn. Prior to her success with PGP, Catie was most famous for being featured in her hometown newspaper regarding her 5th grade Science Fair Project for which she did not place. In her spare time, she enjoys attributing famous historical quotes to Marilyn Monroe and getting in fights with thirteen year olds on twitter. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org