I am definitely not over the election. My sleep schedule is still whacked out, I have lost my appetite, and I have not been able to bring myself to listen to NPR since Tuesday. This is really saying something. I typically sleep like a baby, I always thought that people who “lost their appetite” were secretly dieting, (but I’ve actually lost my appetite for real! I never knew this was actually possible,) and NPR has been the soundtrack to my life, morning and evening, seven days a week.

I am scared for myself, but even more so for my many friends who are immigrants and belong to minority groups. I am particularly worried for my black male coworkers. I want to run around giving hugs to the women wearing headscarves on the streets. I am so sad and frustrated that my countryman voted for a misogynist, raciest asshole that was endorsed by the KKK and who will do little for the working class who helped elect him.

I know as time marches on, I will be out there, protesting and doing what I can, and certainly making plenty of donations to the ACLU and Planned Parenthood. But in the meantime, I am trying to lose myself and not think at all. I’ve been tango dancing more than in ages. Today I went to the National Gallery of Art and looked at beautiful things.

I am also more eager than ever to go to Argentina with my mother. I want to get lost among the cobblestone streets of Buenos Aires, ride that rickety subway line, and visit the mountains in the south that I have never seen. I want to submerge myself in memories and Spanish and eat steak and drink cheap red wine. I want to run away.

I will come back and fight, but right now, I want to run away.