The root canal continues, but there is hope, there is real hope. I mean, Georgia! When this race is called I am going to burst into tears, fall on my knees, I'll be shrieking and singing. It's my mother's birthday: can she have a new president for a gift?

Today: yoga, I hope, and then I'll work on moving my dirt pile into the new garden. But I'm also sure I'll be on the phone with James, pacing around the kitchen with Paul . . . if anything, my boys are even more obsessed by these returns than I am.

Elections workers are American heroes.