Once again I eschewed the sticker ("I didn't do it! Nobody saw me do it! You can't prove anything!"), but I did in fact vote.
It felt better than I thought it would. Although they certainly won't ever hear it directly, the process of voting allowed me to tell both of the grasping, power-hungry self-idolizing septuagenarians representing the major parties that I would rather have a pot-smoking ex-governor who has a shaky grasp of foreign policy, a shakier grasp of religious liberty and a none-too-certain understanding of his own party's philosophy as my president than either of them.
I don't care which of them wins. Some things might get a little better under either of them, but a whole lot's going to get a lot worse. The interns might be safer under President Clinton 2.0 (at least, as long as the First Ladykiller is elsewhere), but as long as gun-buying remains popular, Second (and other) Amendments are likely to be safer under a President Trump who's never met a wind he couldn't bend to.
Neither of them is fit for the office they seek, neither of them is fit to receive a salute from the grimiest enlisted personnel dancing just this side of a court-martial and neither of them is fit for the difficulties of steering our nation through the events of the day.
The only proper response a decent person should have made to either of them saying they wanted to be President is, "So what?" By marking my ballot today, I did that.