Limbo but less like purgatory
On the way up Highway 59, one of our convoy partners said it felt like purgatory, but actually, Katrina was more like purgatory and this is just limbo. Everyone is trying to make the best of it by not succumbing to anxiety about getting back in but when you can’t send an email from your computer because your IP is backlogged and you can’t figure out how to change it, you get anxious no matter what.
We’ve heard people are getting turned away at the Twin Spans leading into New Orleans East and that there is no electricity and no confirmation of when we will have it.
So for now – we’re in Hotlanta, which I confess I get lost in – I drove around 75 and 85 today just trying to get off and have lunch and find wireless – in the end I became weary just with this simple task and was almost falling asleep behind the wheel (a product of having stayed up for two days evacuating).
Limbo is not as bad as purgatory, by a long shot, but it’s still disruptive to routine and rhythm. Even making a phone call seems laborious when you don’t have your space to talk, your dogs are restlessly pacing, your cat is staring at the door like he’s ready to bolt, and everyone wants to see you, have dinner with you, talk to you, and you are not quite you.