… you hear a horn and suddenly wake up. Headlights are coming right for you. You slam on your brakes, jerk the wheel back into your lane, travel off the road into a ditch and come to rest when you slam into a tree.
You wake up some time later. Groggy, you take inventory: no blood, no broken bones. You are alive.
Even with this realization, you aren’t exactly in the mood for confetti and champagne.
… and if Mitt wins, you shouldn’t be either. For the same reasons.