Feeling the weight of the world

I'm sitting in the library. 
I was driven from my home by a limping internet connection, so here I sit, in a slightly drafty corner, looking at the world through the snow-globe windows of my workplace. I had difficulty connecting to the wifi when I first got here, so I was sitting behind the circulation counter at one of the staff desks. I found myself helping patrons at the desk and answering the phone, so back to the corner I went, and here I still am.  Of course now being without the distractions of my kitchen, or the dusting that needs doing, or the novel I'm reading, or the tv show I'm binging on Netflix I must sit here, staring at the screen, very aware of my idle fingers poised over the keyboard. Words feel so very heavy right now.
Instead of the WriMo novel (which is still in an amorphous state) I am trying to write about the abuse of women.  Talk about heavy words. Is it possible to offer useful insight on that subject? How can it be reduced to a bullet list of facts? Are there conclusions to be drawn, or suggestions for solutions?  Anything I manage to put on paper either sounds dreary or far too simplistic, and yet those heavy words are demanding to come out.
My poor country has been battered by shocking events these last few weeks. Somehow being close to home makes them more vivid, more real, than when they happen to someone else. They, too, are feeling heavy.
A construction truck has been idling outside my window for a long time now, rumbling away at a frequency that is now grating on my nerves. I'm also very aware of how hungry I am.  I suppose regardless of how weighty a matter may be, sometimes a time-out and a medicinal dose of chocolate does a world of good. Or just does the world good.