No more ballots, no more bureaucracy

So, they lost my mail-in ballot.

Of course they did.

Because why not?

It’s like the post office took one look at my envelope and thought,

“Eh, democracy? Overrated. Let’s just… misplace this one.”

I can picture it now:

My poor ballot, floating around in some mail vortex,

next to lost socks, mismatched Tupperware lids,

and that birthday card from Aunt Mildred in 2004.

All stuck in the same mysterious black hole,

never to be seen again.

I called the post office, like a fool,

thinking, "Surely someone can help me."

The woman on the phone sounded like she’d been working there

since Benjamin Franklin invented the thing.

“Ballot? Nope, haven’t seen one.

You could always… vote again?”

Oh yeah, no problem! I’ll just crank out another one,

like I’m printing a Costco coupon.

And that’s when I made my decision:

I’m moving to the island.

Yep, just packing up my stuff,

saying goodbye to the madness,

and heading straight for an island somewhere far,

where the only elections are for best coconut and most impressive hammock nap.

No more ballots, no more bureaucracy,

just me, the ocean, and maybe a parrot.

I'll teach it to say, “Hey, did you vote yet?”

But in a fun way, not the soul-crushing kind.

Plus, no mail service!

No post office to lose my island election vote,

though let’s be honest, it’d just be me voting anyway.

I can see it now—

Island life, no lost ballots, no election stress.

Just me sipping a tropical drink,

thinking about how I used to care about politics…

until the post office happened.