I don't think many people really care about the war this week.

And, most likely, they aren't too concerned Adam Sandler and that fat guy got married in a movie (don't worry, I'm pretty sure they aren't having sex).

While I'm completely positive future babies and abortions were created in the last seven days, the outcome of these occurrences is of little concern to most.

I still don't have health insurance (along with 40-50 million other Americans depending on who you're sleeping with) either, and no one really gives a shit.

Some might be concerned that the Transformers movie is actually a polemic about killing your god (whoever that god might be--but especially if it's a mechanical cube), but those people aren't raising their voices either.

I'm not going to say it's too hot to care (although it is in some places). It's just that, this week, we don't really want or need to care about anything.

Let's call it a vacation from caring about all these things that start up really loud and sometimes interesting conversations. These things that supposedly sway the leaders and shakers and movers. These things that tip elections. These things those in power want to desperately keep talking about.

The rest of us want a break.

And I am speaking for a lot of people when I say this. I don't care if some of the people I'm speaking for don't want me to, because it doesn't matter. This is my point. It doesn't matter, and I don't care. And you shouldn't either.

Let that psychic energy go. All that bile building up because you know there's gay sex going on somewhere. Or teenage drug and alcohol abuse, which probably leads to premarital sex. Or all the killing everywhere. Or the plane ride that got cancelled.

I have a fruit fly epidemic in parts of my house, and I've done all I can. No one is really interested in helping me out (it is not part of the Presidential Platform of any candidate anywhere). And so, after doing a bit of problem solving (and remembering how it was last year at this time), I have executed my plan as best I can. And now, well, I don't care. Much. But there are fruit flies in my wine glass. And those fruit flies are underage.

I'm letting them go, too.

It's too much to care all the time. And it seems like we hold on to that "caring" thing just to make ourselves believe we are right (or left or somehow on the same or different page as the people next door). We hold onto it because we don't want to be accused of not caring about these things.

And yet it is rare when anyone directly asks what or how we care about this stuff.

Oh sure, people carry signs and cars honk and talking heads do their thing. But they don't want to know how you feel.

Even I, who write almost every week about whatever it is I'm feeling, don't really care what you think. I mostly just care about what I think. To some extent, I wish there would be a change in the way others think. But I also know the odds of that happening.

So take a week off from the cares of the world. All that stuff you can't do anything about.

Because all that stuff will continue to happen without your permission or acceptance or participation. Because they might be right. We might be attacked by people we don't know much about who hate us for things we have little control over. We might die tomorrow. But caring intensely about it today won't change that.

So let it go. However it is you allow yourself to let it go.

All that stuff will be waiting for you when you come back from your respite.

Matt Worley cares about a cold drink in the afternoon.