Dear Diary,

We won last night. Actually, no, we lost. We lost by fewer votes than there are middle-aged, elite, white men with hemorrhoids in Ottawa. Well, after six weeks of working on a campaign, my middle-aged, white candidate with hemorrhoids had his little cry last night. But he looked positive. He didn't blame anyone for our loss. He gave us all hugs and said thank-you and then invited us all to dinner. This caused me to cry a bit. Not because I was sad we lost (I had a cry about that earlier in the night). I was hugging the candidate and crying because the thought of seeing all these campaign people one more time would have killed me.

And, the thought of food, real food, made me cry a bit. After six weeks of eating, on average, 0.8 meals a day, I was valuing proper carbohydrates and proteins more than silver and gold. At one point in the campaign, I had gained a bit of weight. This was due to the absolute and utter crap that I was ingesting. Apparently, eating nothing but meatball subs for the first ten days allowed me to pack it on like I was going into hibernation. Little did I know that for the remainder of the campaign, that that sweltering office in the back, overlooking the preferred injection spot for heroin addicts, would become my own hibernation chamber.

In order to lose the weight that I so expertly packed on in the first ten days, I spent the next 26 days working like a dog, and only ingesting cigarettes, coffee and beer. On average, I inhaled 10 cigarettes a day, I guzzled 6-8 coffees per day, and I began drinking at 3 pm on weekdays and noon on weekends. Now, dear diary, you may be thinking that we lost because I was drunk every day, but let me assure you that I would drink no more than one beer an hour. By law I was not drunk, and I'm going to blame our election loss on ethnics and the money vote (Dear Diary, this is a joke and a jab at the Parti Quebecois, or the Bloc Quebecois, whatever, I've been drunk for six weeks; there's no way I can be making any sense right now).

So, with the election over, I've been eating like a pig again; eating real food. Already, I've gained it all back. One day - eight pounds. I'm back to 134 pounds.

I still don't really know what the election results were overall for the country. I went to bed last night, and my party was at 23 seats ad held the balance of power. This morning I woke up and we were at 19. Who the hell revoked their vote overnight? Where can I find them? When I do, I will put them in the ground along with a few of my co-workers.

So much talk about food has made me hungry again. Let's see if I can break the elusive 135 pound mark before this government falls. Oh lord, do not let this government fall; I can't deal with another election campaign.