Self-Induced Misery And Entrapment

My younger chickens seem to be somewhat mentally challenged. They can't figure out how to get out of the coop and through the run into the hen house and outside. It's not that hard, guys. 
Every day I have to open the door to the coop in order to let them out to scratch. If I don't, they just stay in that coop all day long with the exception of Maizey, whom we should rename Copper or something because he's a boy for sure and has a creaky voice-breaking crow.

So today I'm not opening the damn coop door but have sprinkled their scratch in a path into the hen house and outside but so far- they haven't figured it out.

All they have to do is step through the door and walk through the hen house and go outside. 

It wouldn't be such a big deal except for the fact that every night when we go out to shut them up to protect them from predators, at least two of them have perched on top of the screen door which needs to be shut and then we have to remove them to the perch and they don't like that and it's a fuss and COME ON BIRDS! JUST WALK THROUGH THE DOOR!

FUCK!

Well. If that isn't a metaphor for most of us, I don't know what the hell is. For me, for sure.

There's the door. It is open. Walk through it to where it is you want to be. 

Done. 

I feel so stuck. And I know without a doubt that there is no one on this earth to blame except for myself. Unlike my chickens, however, I don't even know where it is I want to be or what I want to be doing when I get there. 

And so I've put on my overalls and I guess I'll spray myself with the stupid mosquito spray because just going out to take pictures was a horrifying event with mosquitoes covering my arms and swarming my face and I'll do something to try and create some sort of order in this chaos of a yard even though I know that's not the damn answer. 

Do you realize that I could get in my car and drive to a beautiful beach in two hours or less? 

I could do that. 

Nothing is stopping me except for myself and my stupid thinking which goes like this: 

Too many people, too hot, I'm already too over-exposed in the skin cancer realm, a bathing suit would be involved.

Etc.

And please don't call me up and say, "Hey! Let's go do something!"

Don't you understand? I am stuck. I can't leave. 

I am enjoying my misery. Obviously. 

I got my graded test sheets back from the nursing continuing education units I took. Out of 194 overall questions, I got 192 right. I'm not stupid. I'm just stuck.

I see that the chickens have figured it out. 

They're smarter than I am.

And braver. 

And I can't stop thinking about those people in that movie theater and I can't stop wishing this world wasn't so fucked up and I can't stop wondering why we are so stuck in our blood lust and I think that some days I just give up and let myself be a brute who murders weeds and mosquitoes and lets the sweat pour off of her and thinks quite falsely that that's enough.