When hating the President gets me down, aka every waking hour of every day and sometimes in my sleep, I try to find comfort in reminding myself that it could be much, much worse. At least I don't have to hate the president while being married to him. Because that sure seems to be the case for the first lady, whose evident distaste for her husband has been made clear in everything from her facial expression of constant pain, to her rarely being seen with him, to her physically rejecting his attempts at intimacy in very public scenarios.
I try not to feel bad for her, because she did sign up for this. But at the same time, we've all accidentally signed up for something that turned out to be our worst nightmare—like that time I signed up for a month of Crossfit only to realize 5 minutes into the first class that I had made a pact with Satan. Oops!