President, huh?

Why? Why me? A young teenage girl, with no interest in politics, the President of the United States of America, for 36 hours? Don’t you have to be 35 years old, and have held some government position, before you can even run? What were these people thinking, and whose idea was this? I don’t even like politics!

I sigh, and shake my head. I don’t know about fixing polices, or even what the polices would be, but I have a few things I would like to do.

///////\\\\\\\

I sit down at the fancy desk. I don’t know how to do any of the paper work, so I’m just going to write out what I want done, and give it to people who do know how to do the paperwork.

I check my phone. Might as well answer a question, while I wait for the notebook I requested.

“If you could enforce one thing, what do you think would be the best to improve the state of the people? Someone asks,” I say aloud. I’m being filmed the enitre time I’m here, so why should I bother typing a reply?

“I would say, make Home Ec. a required course...” I muse aloud. “These people eat out all the time, because they don’t know how to cook. They buy new clothing when their old stuff rips, and they have no clue how to fill out paperwork. If you took Home Ec, you would be taught how to cook, you could learn simple sewing, and basic... I have no idea what to call it, so it’s paperwork practices.” I say, before spinning around on the office chair.

Some White House employee shows up, along with the Vice President.

“Excellent! Thank you for getting me the notebook! And thank you, Mr. Vice president, for tolerating my lack of Presidential knowelage,” I say, expressing my gratitude.

They both nod, and I take the aforementioned notebook.

I write down what I want to improve in the nation, and then look up.

“First, I want us to do justice to the 2nd Amendment. There are firearms that are only avalible to the military, or other public servaces, that civilans cannot get, no matter how clean their record. that is an infringment of our rights. obviously, still do background checks, and all that jazz, but people should all have access to firearms. God created all men equal, after all.

“Next, I have research and threories on White-nose syndrome. I know that its been proven to be cured by uv light, and I would like it if scientists would go over my ideas, maybe put something into action?” I ask next.

The VP nods. “I didn’t think you would know about such things.”

“Please don’t assume what I know. I have a vast amount of knowlage on certain subjects, but politics is not one of them,” I sigh.

“Yeah, I assume you know a lot about Tik Toc,” The employee said.

"I'm sorry sir, but did you not hear what I just said?" I ask. "I may be teenage girl with colored hair, but that doesn't mean I'm Tik Tok obsessed. I don't even have the app."

I sigh, and rub my forehead. "Anyway, moving on; next, I want to make donating hair more accessable to the public. Make it an option in salons, and just easier in general. I've donated my hair twice, and both times, it was reletively complicated. I want it to be easier to make people happy."

"What a nice thought," The Vice President appuladed.

"Thanks. Um, do you think you could get me a video call with the national parks servace, to discuss proceedures that we could use my ideas in. And, after that, I would like the contact information of hair donation origonizatins, big and small."

"Of course. Anything else?"

I rub my eyes. "Could someone get me a cup of coffee? I'm not used to staying up past nine-thirty, and I still have twenty hours to stay awake for...."

"Yes, Ma'am. What kind of coffee would you like?"

"... Folderes, with two tablespoons of caramel creamer, if that's not too hard," I say, stretching as I stand up.

I spend the rest of my time as President typing out emails, answering comments, or on video conferences with componies.

Let's hope what I do sticks, huh?