CAN I GET A QUOTE

On Tuesday, when I was sick and sweating my fever out in the limited comfort of my bed, I was having the most whacked out fever dreams. The kind you don't wake up from even when you're conscious. The night before, I was reading a political chic lit my sister lent me about a woman having an affair with a politician in D.C, (She loves to drop really vapid, meaningless novella's about bored housewives and 30 something's on me, so i have to take them to the Goodwill instead of her.) and somehow it invaded my thoughts and dreams. Reporters were crowding me from all sides, pushing and screaming, "CAN I GET A QUOTE, HOW WILL THIS AFFECT YOUR CAMPAIGN, WHICH ISSUE IS THE MOST IMPORTANT TO YOUR PARTY?!" I floundered around wildly in my covers, trying to find an answer that wouldn't come out in the headlines the next day. When I finally did awaken, my fever was still so high that the reporters voices continued to ring in my ears. "Please...Stop..." I pleaded, covering my head with my pillow. I'm not really sure what the issues were that my party stood for, so i still don't have a quote.