The Last Four Years As Told By Amy's Laundry Pile* Remember when we thought this was enough? Remember when we thought Mueller would save us? Remember when we thought impeachment would stop the madness? Remember when we were all probably more excited about a candidate (or two! or three or four or five!) that we did not get? Remember what happened the last time that happened? Well. At least this one aged well. Like a fine, slightly wrinkled bottle of wine. *It's a tremendous laundry pile. The biggest, most beautiful pile. 68 stories tall, probably, people are saying. Many, many people are saying, and asking me about the pile. How did I get such a tremendous pile, such a vast amount unfolded laundry? And I tell them the truth: Because I am smart, because I can pick out sweatpants and a goddamn t-shirt just as easily off the floor as out of a drawer, and because the only thing that's even more tremendous than my laundry pile is my tremendously unbelievably massively big-league level of crippling election anxiety. Also I've been tremendously and entirely too busy doom-scrolling and screaming at my phone.