Well, they say you should never trust a politician, and it seems I’ve been duped.

For months before and since I cast my vote for Donald J. Trump—and yes, I’m one of those people who really leans into the “J” for some reason—I have been promised by every reliable source that change was finally coming to America, after four years of the failed leadership of Joe Biden and then the four years before that, which I can’t remember.

But it’s abundantly clear that the Trump presidency is delivering more of the same. And it’s the bad kind of same that’s been happening lately, not the good kind of same like from the good old days. When men could be men, women could be women, and I didn’t have to go to work or pay for anything because I was a child.

On issue after issue, we are being force-fed “now” when we were promised “then.”

Take rising prices. On January 20, at noon sharp, I busted down the door of my local grocery store like it was Black Friday—and after management told me that the door would’ve opened automatically if I had waited two more seconds, I was shocked by what I saw.

A dozen eggs still cost four dollars. So did a gallon of milk. And my fifth-grade teacher, who I used to run into all the time there? Still dead.

Something was wrong. I thought maybe these grocery workers were some sort of uncontacted people who were living under the tragic illusion that Joe Biden was still president. But no. They’re modern people. They keep up with the news through Facebook, just like you and me. And yet, they were acting as if there was no difference between the day Biden left office and the day Trump took office.

Then there’s the male loneliness epidemic. The voices who talk to me in my head—mostly Barstool hosts via my earbuds—convinced me that maybe this terrible feeling of isolation they told me I was experiencing might finally be a thing of the past. But even though I voted for the guy who has spent decades betraying absolutely every single person in his life as soon as they no longer suit his immediate needs, I still have no friends.

I was also promised that my vote would bring an end to DEI, ERGs, CSR, and LGBTQ, leaving only real American letters like UFC and EIEIO. And yet, when I showed up to work this morning, not a single one of my female co-workers had vanished in a puff of smoke. And also, they still won’t let me smoke at work! What decade is this—not the 1950s?

Then I got home, turned on the TV, and found that the Washington Commanders are still called the Washington Commanders? And they’re doing crazy hot right now? And the couples in the commercials for my favorite erectile dysfunction pills are still interracial? And they’re crazy hot right now?

To let off some steam, I went to the globe store to see if I could get my model globe replaced—now that the United States is acquiring Greenland, Canada, Mexico, and Panama, and I imagine the UN would probably throw in some random bonus ones, like Suriname. But the disgruntled employee at the front desk insisted mine was up to date and that none of those places are states yet—presumably because she’s one of those deep-state operatives that the administration still hasn’t gotten around to axing.

Now, to be fair, Donald Trump has kept some promises. He brought back TikTok. And he did it so effectively that it happened on the last guy’s watch.

But everything else about his presidency thus far implies that Donald Trump is the same guy he was eight years ago, doomed to disappoint as compared to the extravagantly transformative promises he has made. That even he is subject to political gravity and the constraints, however loosened, of the Constitution.

And if that’s the case, let me draw a clear line in the sand: I will not be voting for him in 2028.