I Got 99 Problems But an Itch Ain't One

To say we are going through some things would be the understatement of the last 5 years for my family. Kids are working, kids are are looking for work, some are in college, some are going back to college, the house is full of stuff from stem to stern with the animals are being separated by breed and temperament. The hostile takeover of Mike and my house is temporary, or at least we hope it is. Living in a frat house is not what we pictured for ourselves at this age. We are indeed surrounded by the young and restless.
And I stand corrected, of course, because I now have a rash in 4 different places due to stress. At least I am not losing my hair. That would Mike's job at this point. I was approached and accused recently, "Well, you let this happen." Did I? I don't really see it that way. My impact on the global economy is fairly small, and by fairly small, I mean, not at all. This "happened" because I wasn't willing to throw my kids out on the street because jobs are scarce. I should know, I looked for one myself. It is what it is.
Everyday I get up and face the daunting task of trying to climb out of our and others stuff. That is my current mission, to move through what looks like living in a storage unit, to living in a livable house. Boxes of each of our pasts sit idly by as we examine the contents to see what is worth keeping, and what is now simply a reminder of a past life. Mike and I shop for things like storage containers, shelves, other organizing tools in order to keep the 6 grown people from bursting out of the house we live in. Quite frankly, this whole process bores me. So much so that I find myself watching TV absent-mindfully sifting through what I guess I no longer care about.
I have been riveted by the protesters in Egypt. I watch the bravery of people fight for better for themselves, at any cost. My mind wanders to my own country and division we are facing on a fairly regularly basis. The constant name calling, the incessant insults that turn personal when ideology is what is in question, the slanderous and libelous things on the net and television by pundits who should for all intent and purpose know better, yet wisdom doesn't get you ratings , so ethics goes out the window. For me our own government feels pretty chaotic. I think, mostly because Congress has no idea how to do their job. I still have most of my civil liberties, so I don't protest in the streets. I politely disagree, vote my conscience, and write when I feel something is not just or decent. Name calling is too much work for me. Protesting would require me to abandon my task at hand, which although sounds enticing at first, I know I would have to face when my sign carrying days were over.
I sat sifting more stuff when I saw a celebrity, known for cocaine and porn stars, go to rehab. All I could think was "lucky guy, he gets three months to focus on himself". Mike and I would give a kidney to have that kind of time in peace and quiet. Sure, there is the whole withdrawal thing, public humiliation, loss of income, blah, blah, blah, but he gets to have three squares fixed for him, clean sheets and all the quiet he can handle.
My writing recently turned sarcastic because of the state of our union. I quit working on the books due to the issue that the only pertinent adjective of any of it these days is "bitter". I am perfectly fine with distasteful, but I draw the line at sour, so bitter is no good for my purposes. The books can wait. I am not panicked, yet. I could produce some piece of trifling crap about how life has handed me a raw deal, but there is enough out there that says the same thing, only those writers took it one step further and are now joined with the a fore mentioned celebrity in Betty Ford. I don't have that kind of commitment or time.