Days after the election, we are still waiting.

We are waiting for a number of reasons, none nefarious or suspicious, but some more discouraging than others.

We are waiting because we’re in the middle of a pandemic, and way more people voted by mail than ever before, and in some states those ballots can’t even be opened until Election Day.

We are waiting because of huge voter turnout, because people risked their health and stood in long lines and did everything in their power to ensure their vote was counted.

We are waiting because the truly bizarre and broken Electoral College system means that a candidate who millions and millions more Americans vote for can still lose the election.

And we are waiting because we didn’t get a #BlueWave, a landslide, a wholesale repudiation of the current President’s racism, cruelty, fear-mongering, and bullying.

That’s the one that hurts.

I wasn’t counting on it, or expecting it, or even hoping for it, not really. After my — to me — inexcusable naiveté in 2016, I didn’t allow myself so much as a whiff of optimism about this election. I have optimism about my fellow activists, and about the work that we will keep doing, but not so much about this particular moment. But still. This hurts.

It hurts because I wanted us to be better, I wanted to believe that we are not what I’ve seen these past years. But what I’ve learned is that this is America, full stop. The hateful voices might be louder and bolder, the highest office in the land might be amplifying them, but the racism and systemic problems were right in front of us, five years ago, fifteen years ago, fifty years ago, and back to our founding. It was new to me, but not to those who live in this country without my layers of privilege.

It also hurts because I am tired, and I wanted this to be easy.

I wanted this to be over, or at least on a decent hiatus. I wanted to stop fearing the news and feeling guilty every moment that I’m not calling my elected officials or texting or donating or preparing for a protest. I want to let the grownups run the country while I get back to my life.

Yeah, it’s embarrassing to write that, but it’s true. I wanted my job to be done.

It’s not done. It’s not easy. And it’s still my job, and yours, and everyone in this country’s. We make our choices every single day, multiple times a day, from where we buy our coffee to how we talk to strangers to what we post on social media. We vote with our wallets and our voices far more often than we ever get to step to a ballot box.

We did not get a landslide because tens of millions of Americans — our neighbors and coworkers and teachers and family members — voted again for a man celebrates the basest and most hateful instincts in our all-too human nature.

So we keep working. The job is not done.

I am tired, and I did want it to be easy, but that’s okay. I’ll take a break for a minute (or I’ll sign up to start making calls for ballot-curing in Arizona and Georgia and North Carolina). I’ll re-watch British baking shows and eat inappropriate amounts of half-price Halloween candy. But then, no matter who wins this election, I will have to get back to work.

See you there.