I’m going to need some Advil and a cold compress, please. I’m the Massachusetts Electorate, and I have what is bar none the absolute worst hangover of my entire voting life...Think, Electorate, think. What did I do? This much I’m starting to remember. Martha and I walked into the party and everything seemed to be going fine. She wasn’t talking much, but she never really does, and she wasn’t exactly pushing me to bare my soul, either... And now I’m vaguely recalling that stranger across the room, the one in the barn jacket who kept smiling at me and seemed...