It was sometime this week, as I was reading yet another news item about President Viktor Yanukovych’s continuing unwillingness to make up his mind about the pending Association Agreement with the European Union, that it struck me. I’m awfully tired—and I mean honest-to-goodness, god-awfully tired—of the guy. It’s not that I wish he’d go away (although I do: very much), but that I wish he’d finally make a decision.
No, it’s not even that anymore. I’ve been waiting over two years for him to make up his mind about Ukraine’s integration into Europe. And now, just two weeks before the Vilnius summit that will decide Ukraine’s future, I can no longer listen, watch, or read about the guy. You see, I suffer from Yanukovych Fatigue.
It’s not Ukraine Fatigue: the country and its people remain as interesting as they’ve always been, and I wish them well. Nor is it Regionnaire Fatigue: my feelings toward Yanukovych’s party are better summed up by the term Regionnaire Catarrh. When I see those distinguished gentlemen, I feel the need to clear my throat.