Being unemployed, I don’t have much to do during the day. I spend a few hours applying for jobs, an hour to work out, maybe write a blog post or watch the Colbert Report at 3:30 on Comedy Central, and then I’m trying to figure out what to do for the rest of my day. I’m starting to take naps. So going out to vote today was a big deal. It got me out of the house and gave me something to do—even if it was for only 30 minutes.

In Utah, a presidential election is like a spectator sport. We just sit back and watch the candidates battle it out in states that actually consider both sides. Our state is so red from the flesh and blood of hard-core Republicans that the candidates ignore us like a redheaded stepchild. We’re lucky if we get an hour visit in the preliminary preliminaries, usually doing a fuel stop, but I have yet to see that happen.

Anyway, I’ve tried to follow the election with the pretence that my vote would matter. I would think to myself, “Now if I lived in Ohio (may God help me if ever do), whom would I vote for?” With that hypothetical question in mind, I watched the debates, listened to the pundits, and discussed the issues with family and friends.

This last year has been wildly entertaining. With characters such as Hilary Clinton, Jeremiah Wright, Sarah Palin, and Joe the Plummer, the story of this election almost has as many twists as a Spanish Novela. And sprinkle on some of the greatest SNL skits, I’ve been more interested in this election than any other.

But as I looked at the boxes next to the Obama/Biden and McCain/Palin tickets on the computer screen before me, I froze. “C’mon,” I told myself, “You’re in Ohio and your vote could determine the fate of the country.” But I couldn’t touch a box. I was just about to put an X next to Obama when the word NADER jumped out at me like bacon grease half-way down the screen. “Yes,” I told myself, “Nader! I can vote for Ralph Nader!” And then I remember my father telling me that he voted for Ralph Nader in 2000 when he couldn’t decide between Bush and Gore. So I did too.

I know, I know. I copped out. But please know I would not have wasted my vote for Nader if I lived in Ohio. I would have cowgirled up and decided. But I don’t live in Ohio, and my vote in Utah is worth crap. Voting for Nader, I now have the peace of mind that I didn’t vote for the most liberal, inexperienced candidate ever to run for office—or for hot-tempered 72-year-old who may blow a fuse and leave us with Palin as President.

At least I’ll be able to sleep during my regular afternoon nap.

**So if you are on a date with Jenny, don’t talk about politics. She needs a break.