A shooting today in Ft. Lauderdale, part of southern Florida, where I was born and lived for a few years until my family headed for the northeastern part of the state. And my reaction to the news that was trickling in about more gun violence and senseless loss of life? Indifference. Utter indifference to carnage going on in my own state. More wrapped up in the doldrums of my day job and whether it’ll still exist come the end of Trump’s term, wondering with cynicism how Sen. Rubio and Gov. Scott will spin this atrocity happening in our state. Only now, hours later, is it starting to dawn on me how my emotions are being shorted out, and even now that’s still something registering on a purely intellectual level. All the pending horrors about to be wrought by a president yet to even be sworn into office have already maxed out my capacity to feel outrage of any kind. After the election, I vowed to get more involved in local politics, take part and be the solution to what I always hear is a depleted bench and no local organization and involvement. I doubted I have what it takes to actually run for and serve in any public office, but now I’m convinced it’s a certainty.