It’s Election Day here in America, and I’m gonna compare myself to Mr. Trump and Mrs. Clinton. Donald’s mid-life crisis spray tan and Hillary’s pant suit addiction are equivalent to me. I know that sounds strange, but their ways to handle the election are similar to my ways of handling the task of teenage life. We are all covering up our lies, our mistakes, our worries, and secret opinions. We run to the aid that stems from cosmetic cover ups and “campaign managers,” otherwise known as guidance counselors in high schools across the country. I don’t resort to counting my money when I’m sad, but I do turn to stress relieving activities like listening to music and running. When I am simplifying the maze of life, like both of these human beings, I tend to help others also.When it comes to personality traits, I’m confident and hasty with my choice words like Donald. But I’m overly generous like Hillary (does the homeless man on the street really need money bestowed upon him?). I’m a political dumbbell, like Trump, no offense. And, I live for feminist ideology. The more power to the woman the better. I’m all for Beyoncé who happens to support our female contender. So therefore more tallies onto the side that states my similarities to Hillary. I’m a little bit like both of these silly candidates, and by making them more relatable to myself I have realized that the expected superhero qualities don’t need to exist. They are just trying to change this great, not so great, nation. But one thing we truly all do have in common is that bubble of anxiety in our tummies and the metaphorical nail-biting tendencies. I’m going to say our nation is not screwed, because with my thinking that means I am not screwed. Both candidates have worked extremely hard to get what they want, and so have I. It’s all coming at us faster than light. Soon the country will have a leader, soon I will be a tonsil-less college student, soon everything will die down. But for now, we’re still living in a 50/50 toss-up, waiting for miracles.