No officer, I'm not drunk, I'm just too political.

I stayed up much too late Saturday night trying to fix some problems with this blog. With only five hours of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed and drove over to the Downriver Democrats Organization again for another day of exciting political work.

If I get any more papercuts, I may pass out from blood loss.

I think I spent the first four or five hours sorting walklists (the list of registered voters used by canvassers). Sliced open the web of skin between my thumb and forefinger badly enough I needed a paper towel to soak up the blood. I did similar work in Arizona (with significantly less bloodshed -- is becoming a more prolific bleeder a normal sign of aging?), but the only remotely-interesting observation I can make about it is that the Arizona list has more Spanish names surnames, and the Michigan list more Polish names. Even I don't care about that one.

I sorted some miscellaneous canvassing supplies (clipboards, scripts, duct tape, and so forth), then spent a few more hours phonebanking to round up paid canvassers for election day. After a three straight days of phonebanking, I've pretty much thrown out the phone script the Democrats gave me and replaced with it a high-speed salespitch ending and you get your forty bucks at the end of the night. Sound like a good deal? The pitch was working pretty well. I guess I still have a little salesman left in me after all.

I realized today that Chris, the other guy who's been volunteering all weekend, is the teenage Howard Dean organizer a local paper profiled last year. The kid still has to have his mom drive him to and from headquarters, but he already makes me look like a total slacker.

Speaking of slacking, one of the office coordinators, Katie, tried to talk me into working at a canvassing site this Tuesday, but I decided I'd rather just canvass. I tried working at a organizing site in 2002, and it didn't go well. There were police involved. And lots of screaming. I got disinvited from the campaign victory party over that one.

I like that I'm only working on the little stuff this campaign. It's less stressful. People give me work, I do the work, people thank me, I drive home at the end of the night. Simple as that.

Although, I should probably mention that I got pulled over by a cop driving home this time. Apparently, I was so exhausted that I forgot to turn on my headlights. (In my defense, there are lots of streetlamps in the neighborhood, so it's not like I was seriously endangering anybody's life.) He let me off with a warning. Apparently, I just can't get a through a campaign without involving the police.

I tried to go straight to bed when I got home, but my youngest brother (the sailor) called to ask for homework advice. (He's taking his freshman composition class. His current paper is about the electoral college, which he's decided he doesn't like. Welcome to the club, pal.) Finally got to bed, but woke up after five hours anyway. Argh. So, I've been awake two hours (the sun is rising as I type), I already feel tired again, and I have two more whole days of campaigning ahead of me. Why am I doing this again?

Posted at 07:19:55 AM EST on 01 November 2004 from Trenton, MI