By Friday evening, I was already over it. The weeks run stormy during election season and this one in particular was a gale, a hurricane of major events swirling in rapid succession. Iowans caucused on Monday, and Caucus Monday still hadn’t found its ending on Tuesday when the president delivered his State of the Union address, or the next day when he was acquitted in his impeachment trial. I can’t recall what, if anything, happened on Thursday. But as the television droned in the background, and I hurried around my kitchen trying to get dinner into the Instant Pot, I knew that it was debate night, which by some cruel DNC joke was happening on a Friday—Friday!—evening, and I was exhausted.