There’s definitely no way I’ll be able to sleep tonight without knowing who came out ahead today. So, unless things start looking (shudder) 2000-esque, I’ll be up as late as I need to be.
A (who—Emmie’s right—is actually a saint) has other ideas. He feels he’ll sleep better not knowing than he would either elated by an Obama win or in despair over a loss. So if things start to look like they’ll go into the night, he’s hitting the sack.
I can’t quite conceive of how a sane person could think this way. He’d rather not know? Negotiating this difference is probably one of the tasks the cosmos has set for us in our marriage. (Or for me, anyway. He seems to totally get why I want to know before I sleep.)