It's the little joys.

Beyond the dancing in the streets, beyond the promise for the Supreme Court and the cabinet and the Constitution and the world at large, I'm still realizing the tiny joyful things about Obama. Take the Post Office, for example.

For somebody who's so bent on being as paperless as possible, I still have to head for the Post Office surprisingly often. In NYC, that means waiting in line at the Post Office. And, in most of the branches I end up using, what do I have to stare at every time? The framed portrait of George W. Bush watching over the line with his creepy simian warmongering Constitution-shredding grin.

Well, just two more months of that... then Obama smile instead, and everything it means presiding over a Post Office line full of progressive, tolerant, every-colored people. What will it mean to have a president who makes me feel relaxed rather than queasy when he smiles at me?