Tuesday 27th January marked 100 days until the general election. That’s 100 days left of catty party-political tweets. 100 days left of fretting over chairs – whether they’ll be empty and who will occupy them. And 100 days left of Nick Clegg. Seriously. I’ve done the calculations. It turns out there is a 98 per cent chance that he will simply self-combust after 7th May, never to be seen again, slipping sorrowfully through the cracks of history to settle into oblivion, with comfy slippers and a cigar.

And the most interesting thing is that absolutely no one will notice. He will make the most impressive Irish exit ever. Social-phobes the world over will be green with envy. Or else, they would be, if they – or anyone else – had spotted he was missing. It will be truly laudable, if not also utterly piteous.

But anyway, enough of Clegg (this is 97 days away from being very literally true). This year’s is set to be a truly fascinating general election, the kind requiring snacks. (I’m putting in an advance order for 65 million rounds of popcorn, and some nachos. You can all pay me back later.)

In fact, it is possibly also party-worthy. (No, silly! Not the kind of party leafleting our politicans will engage in oh-so diligently for the next 97 days, but the kind of party where everyone dances to the Macarena and someone overdoes it on the sausage rolls).

It really is a tough one to call, this time round. Obviously, there is a legion of elves somewhere (possibly the bowels of Whitehall – or else, Boris Johnson’s hair), painstakingly embroidering monograms into tartan slippers for the Lib Dems. But, apart from that, it’s virtually impossible to say which way the votes will go.

Not that They would tell you that, of course. (‘They’ being the ones with the pearly-white smiles on all the billboards and bus stops, talking incessantly about immigration and the EU. Not to be confused with the other ones with the pearly-white smiles on all the billboards and bus stops in contention for this year’s Oscars.)

No, if you listen to Them, you’ll hear that, actually, this year’s general election is very straightforward. The Conservatives are going to capitalise on the demise of the pesky Lib Dems and finally gain a Commons majority. Labour is going to rise again to snatch power back from the Tories. UKIP is going to take parliament by storm (a storm, incidentally, possibly caused by Stephen Fry’s recent nuptials – I am awaiting confirmation on this). And the Greens are going to at least double their number of MPs. At least.

With all kinds of claims being flung about in all directions (rather like monkeys throwing their faeces), politics can all too easily seem alienating. Like a foreign-language film without the ill-fitting dubbing. Or the French attitude towards queuing. It is easy to forget that politics is actually, by its very nature, about people. Not just people in power. Not just people who were members of the Bullingdon Club. Not just people who know what ‘prorogation’ means (thank you, Wikipedia).

No, politics is about all people. Or, at least, it needs to be. Politicking may be something odious which other people do, but politics has to be something that you do. If you live in this country, then the politics of this country are about you. And that’s why you have to vote. No wriggle room: just vote.

If you know exactly who you want in charge of the UK for the next five years after this May, that is what your vote is for. If you look at the current parliament, and don’t see yourself reflected, that is what your vote is for. If you care about your life here – and others’ – that is what your vote is for.

If you genuinely believe that there is not a single policy or piece of legislation which could ever stir you into anything but utter indifference, then you have my permission not to vote. But I would also recommend checking your pulse. I’m concerned for you.

As General Election Fever (the medical reason for Nick Clegg’s imminent disappearance) reaches its peak over the next 100 days, we mustn’t let ourselves forget that this whole thing is actually about people. And, as people (presumably), we have to take part, or we lose by default.

There are now 97 days to go. That’s 97 days to register to vote. 97 days to decide which people you want representing you, another person.