It’s election day again. Already. A run-off for what really looks like a relatively inconsequential local race. It’s also about twenty-five degrees colder than it was a few days ago and I’m layered up in one of my extremely unfashionable stay-inside-and-write-all-day outfits. And all of this is a roundabout way of saying: I didn’t want to go. That’s unusual for me. Normally, elections are in my calendar. I remind other people who already know. I get nervous that I might forget or be late. That the…