The day after.

The first thing that I noticed in the post-Obama world was that white people were worn out. I mean they looked tired. Maybe it was from all the drinking and celebrating the night before, or from all the phone banking, but man, people looked wrecked the day after the election.

I, myself, got a hella good nights sleep, and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the world. Except I didn't have to! The world was tackled for me the night before. What a relief.

Anyway, I walked down the street on the way to work and white people were smiling at me from across the street. In fact, for the first time in my life white people actually crossed the street to walk on the *same* side of the street as me instead of crossing to the opposite side. It kind of scared me at first, but then they would give me a tired smile and point at their worn out "I voted" sticker that they had torn off the shirt that they wore the day before. It seemed like that was about all the energy they could muster. I smiled back. Once or twice I heard myself say "good job."

Jamal