This is how determined I am to vote Trump out of office in the November 2020 Presidential Election... I am in Lithuania, so I need to request an absentee ballot. The US makes this difficult to do from overseas. I find a link on the American Embassy page in Vilnius for a form to request an absentee ballot. I drive to Copy Pro, open up the form on the computer, fill it in, and print in out. The next step is to take the form to a post office and mail it to the state of Maine. I place my printed form, my US passport, other important documents, and the first 35 pages of the new novel I am writing, into a green folder. Then, I walk to my car. I place the folder on the roof of my car, pull out my keys from my bag, open the car door, cancel the parking fee on my phone, and drive off. As I pull into a busy street I hear the unfortunate sound of my green folder flying off the roof of my car and landing with a splat onto the street! In my rear view mirror I see the folder lying there woefully on the street. Then, the car just behind me drives over it.
I quickly veer into the driveway of a private parking lot on an incline and stop before the gate. I hastily yank up my emergency break, pop on the hazards, and leap out of the car to go retrieve my folder off the busy street.
Another car drives over it. I cringe.
Just as I'm behind my car, my car starts to roll backwards onto me. I nimbly jump out of the way. The car keeps rolling backwards into the busy street. Luckily, I still have my keys in my hands. I unlock the door and leap into the driver's seat and securely yank up the emergency break and stop the car before it could interrupt the flow of traffic. Whew!
Just then a kindly older gentleman appears at my driver's side window.
"Young lady, you are living dangerously," he says.
"Oh, I know I am, but I must retrieve my folder before it is completely squashed."
"What folder?" he asks.
"Look, over there," I point.
"Oh, I see," he says.
"Here, take my keys, stand right there, and keep an eye on my emergency brake. It doesn't hold very well."
"Yes, of course," the kindly older gentleman says and dutifully takes his position beside my car.
I leap out and run towards my folder, gesticulating at the oncoming driver to stop.
That driver ignores my gestures and runs over my poor green folder.
"Perhaps this isn't worth the trouble," I ponder for a moment. But only for a moment. I suddenly remember the women of Belarus who are prepared to face beatings, arrest, torture for the right to vote for a president of their choice. If they can face such a fight and risk jail time to cast their vote, then certainly I can dodge a few cars to cast mine.
I wait for a pause in the flow of traffic, jump into the road, snatch up my folder, and run back to my car, panting for breath.
"Here it is!" I call out triumphantly to the kindly older gentleman, holding up my green folder, "my documents."
"Oh yes, I have driven off with my documents on the roof of my car as well," he says, "but they all flew away. At least you had the foresight to organize yours into a folder."
We both share a good laugh. I bid my guardian angel farewell and drive off to the post office, hoping to make it there in one piece.
That is precisely how determined I am to vote Trump out of office!