So, my house is a submarine parking lot. My mom, brother and sister-in-law, sister and brother in-law and their kids are whereabouts unknown after staying in Gentilly for the storm. My home-town, or what’s left of it faces many plagues in the immediate future, and likely a thorough bulldozing before this is all done.
My other brother and his clan survived the storm and managed to make it out of town to retreat to humane and sanitary lodgings. One of my good friends whom I feared the worst for has managed the same hat-trick. I am amongst other very good friends in my (and their) homelessness. My wife, for the moment, is still in possession of a job and is able to collect a paycheck.
The teeter-totter keeps bringing me up and down. It’s a ride that frankly I’d like to get off of, but that’s not in the cards.
I feel like a whiny bitch for even feeling the need to vocalize what everyone else I know — and countless thousands that I don’t — is going through, and some much worse.
I’m a little homesick, but my home is sick and there is no going back for a long while, and even when I can it’s not really my home any more. More than the home is a longing to see the entire gang, to witness with my own eyes that they are whole and healthy. I miss my missing family, and there is a very real chance that there will be no relief for that feeling, ever.
Most of the time I’m fine. Some of the time I’m not. Every so often I’m a fucking wreck, like I am now. Eventually the teeter-totter will swing back up again, but for now, my ass is on the ground in, as you say, the mud.
Careful putting that ass in the mud — mud’s under 20 feet of water in some places.
Honestly, though, Stuff. I knew you all were going to throw me a going-away party, but this is just too much! Were you mad because I knew what some of the weekend plans were? Talk about getting me back! How did you get all these people in on it? Newscasters, friends, family… The list goes on and on! Photo and video spoofing alone must have been a ’round the clock endeavor.
I salute you.
Now make it stop.
If I could, I would. This merry-go-wrong has a life all it’s own.
Actually Mensa this wasn’t meant for you, it was meant for Chef Dave to come over to my house and move some dirt/sand. It has cost me a deal of bj’s, but Chef did manage to move the sand. Now for calling it all off, their just having too much fun since I told them on sunday to cut the feed. Shrug media. 🙂