I miss my old problems

Over the past year or so I've been taking comfort in the fact, sometimes, that things could be worse. 'Cause usually when it feels like it couldn't get any worse, it gets worse. I'll think, "At least I don't live in Haiti." That sort of stuff. And, it makes me feel better. I spend time watching the news and hearing about the Mom who murdered her kids - things I could never in the past stomach since things like that are way too upsetting and give me nightmares.

Lately, that stuff doesn't help me feel any better even though bad news the strangers on TV experience is less disturbing to me than it used to be. I've wanted to get out a loudspeaker and slap it on my car and drive around the neighborhood blaring the the ice-cream-truck-like-song I'll write about how what is going on right now is so far from okay that it makes me come unraveled sometimes. Or somtimes I just want to murder people, increasingly customer service phone people. My Dad has cancer. So does my Grandma. Totally sucks. I miss my old problems.