It's true. My stomach flip flops as I walk past all of the signs lining the sidewalk on the way to my polling place. My palms are practically sweaty when I hand over my driver's license.
What's more, the people running the polls are always so lovely. There were even chairs lined up for voters to sit in--in line--as we waited to cast our ballots. At first I felt silly getting up and shifting one seat to the right as we moved closer to the booths. But all of the volunteers insisted we sat, and as time went on, I realized that it felt so right. I felt the privilege that has been bestowed on all Americans as I sat in that chair, politely and respectfully shifting one seat to the right as another booth opened .
Quietly making conversation about shoes (my Danskos attracted a little attention), appreciating the aroma of coffee being perked in the kitchenette behind me, I gave thanks for the opportunity to "place my ballot in the box" today.
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