Ostrich

I've been rather deliberately avoiding politics of late. I'm so disgusted with our current administration that it is almost as if I subconsciously hope, by completely ignoring them, they will disappear without doing any additional damage. Surprisingly, beyond that bit about the global warming earlier this week and a high-profile visit from His Holiness, the White House seems to have the same wishes: Maybe, if we're quiet enough and turn out all the lights when we leave, no one will notice the mess.
On the flip side, I cannot fathom why anyone would want to clean up said mess. A truly thankless job. Whoever inherits it will not benefit in any way even from posterity. But the sniping and bullshit and sound bites that are ripening in the air of this race for the not-so-prized prize have even penetrated my decidedly dull radar. I wish for the days when candidates were discouraged from campaigning. You know, back in 1900. But, alas, we in the information age have been innundated with everything from fiscal planning to morning beverage choices of the current big three. As if the choice of Earl Grey over Mountain Dew is going to swing any votes.
What we should be asking is "how are you with a broom?" Because even though I've had my head in the sand for the past four months or so, I know there's some house cleaning that's gonna come due.