Hello, human diary. It is I again, Mitt Romney, your better.
These last days have been extremely tiring. Ever since the Supreme Court decided that the current healthcare law indeed passed constitutional muster, things have been confusing, at best. Our campaign has not quite decided what to do with the information, although we remain certain we disapprove of it. In the meantime I have taken respite in my beachfront vacation home (not the California one, but the other one).
The problem is that I am, to use a term Eric F. explained to me, happysad. I am happy because the healthcare plan that I myself proposed, endorsed, implemented, and repeatedly endorsed again has received approval from the highest court in the land, which means it was good. But I am sad because that approval was technically granted to another version of that plan, one endorsed by Democrats, which means it is now bad. Trying to draw the line between the two—which plan is good, and which plan is bad—continues to be quite difficult. It seems reporter units are not entirely satisfied with the simple notion that the bad one is the one my opponent did, because he is my opponent and he is bad. I instructed my staff to explain to them further that my plan was good because I am not my opponent, and since he is bad I must by definition be good, but they reported back with unsatisfactory results. While we sort this out, we have largely decided to not say things anymore, on any subject.
I am not sure if it is the court ruling, the water here or the fumes of the jet-propelled water vehicle, but I have certainly noticed a decrease in my operational capacities. The additional weekend leap second was no help, and yet another example of how scientists are inherently biased against severe conservatives like myself.
On the other hand, it may be all others whose operational capacities are incorrect? After all, I can clearly determine which healthcare plans are good and bad, so if others are perceiving more complexities it is just as likely that they are the ones in error. Often elevators can have the right answer, in terms of adjusting tree height, but I do not know now if haircuts can meet my commitment to cheesy grits and pastries of dubious origin. All of these should be left up to the states, except for the tree dimensions. Clearly, though, if one health insurance mandate is from 7-11, and the other is not, then is it not obvious which one I should pick as my Vice Presidential unit? All these podiums have been of incorrect heights, through this entire campaign. Each of them should have been one quarter inch higher. And I am tired of pretending to like Donald Trump.
I am not feeling well, Mr. Diary. I am going to lie down for a while. I suppose each political campaign has bad weeks, and I suppose my campaigns have tended to have more bad weeks than could seemingly be explained by random chance. I am only glad that this week is of slightly smaller portion than most weeks, due to the holiday.
Source: Daily Kos