New Plan

We aren't going. Even if we can get in, that doesn't mean we should. Things are bad there, and there's not a thing on our list we can't live without.

The front line troops are focussing on search & rescue. There are people trapped there that can't get out. Will they beat us up? People in New Orleans are going nuts...people do crazy things when they're in survival mode.

We'll go back when the Powers That Be tell us we can. It's just a house. It's just stuff.

Plan

Randy and I apparently read the same things. The story he tells of the guy who sneaked into his neighborhood, assessed the situation, then went back to Baton Rouge, has inspired us. We live in the neighborhood right next to this guy, and we are going to try to sneak in and get our stuff. Then we're heading out to Columbus, via Birmingham (where we'll stay the night).

They may not let us in. That's OK. At least we will have tried. We have a list of things to do when we're there, and if we can't make them happen, we'll just keep moving, neither better nor worse off than we were for the effort.

Ohio

We're going to Columbus for a few days. Maybe a week. My family is there, and it will be free. After a week, if we still can't go home, maybe we'll go to Gainesville and see the in-laws.

There's a lot more general news out of Slidell, but nothing really specific. Apparently, the damage is really bad. Randy linked to some pictures from the area on Complicated Shadows. More information keeps coming in, and none of it's good. I did hear a piece of an interview on WBRZ-TV in Baton Rouge, where the reporter said her photographer lived 3 1/2 miles from I-10 and Gause Blvd., and while there were some trees down and shingles blown off, his house had no other damage at all.

Here's hoping he lives in my neighborhood.

Helpless

This morning was pretty difficult. I spent a lot of time watching the news, and it wasn't good. I ate breakfast, then came up and watched a little more news, then got on the internet. I zoned into some non-hurricane web sites and just read things, and it was so nice. So, I decided that I didn't want to spend a lot of time sitting around wondering what was happening chez nous.

We went to lunch, as I said in yesterday's post. And then we went to Space Center Houston, a visitor's center/activity center adjacent to the Johnson Space Center. I thought it was closer to our hotel than it was, but it was still a very good idea. We were gone for over four hours, and we played and enjoyed the place, and I didn't think once about my house.

But now it's back to reality, and I'm mighty apprehensive about it. Aside from the information that I-10 between St. Tammany Parish and Orleans parish being severely damaged, this is the only thing I've read specifically about my area, and it's not good at all.

Thanks to all for your concern and kind wishes. We're planning on staying here at least until Wednesday morning. I don't know what we'll do after that.

Safe

It was a long drive (about 10 hours) but we are here. We are such geeks - we didn't bring a laptop, but a full-size Dell Dimension 4400 with a 17" NEC Multisynch monitor. We have a nice little desk and high-speed internet in the room - well, of sorts. It only connects at 10 mbps, but that's probably faster than the connection to the outside world.

We upgraded our environment from the last time we evacuated - we are in a small suite with a king-size bed. There is a small seating area with a large loveseat that is a sofa bed, so little boy doesn't have to camp on the floor.

Tomorrow we are going to go to Pappacito's for lunch, where they make their own tortillas. I haven't had fresh tortillas since I left Lubbock in 2002. While the food in the New Orleans area is superb, I haven't been real impressed with how they do Mexican. It's good to be back in Texas for a bit.

Houston

We are evacuating to Houston. As I've said in the past when I've blogged about this: not everybody in my neighborhood is leaving, so don't anybody even THINK about coming here to steal my stuff. My neighbors like guns.

We have a room in a nice hotel with high-speed internet access, so we've decided to take our PC. We're such geeks.

DH helped a woman in our ward put up wooden shutters over her windows today. He's a good man.

Meet Katrina

Look at this lovely graphic.

See where that "H" is at 8:00 p.m. Monday? I live right there.

Here we go again.

Nope

I didn't get the job. I really thought it was mine for the taking, but they hired someone else. This person is "a year away from a computer science degree." I read that as "younger." Also, somebody taking an entry-level job who is, indeed, entry level, while at the same time having more SQL experience than I do.

Does this sound bitter? I don't mean it to, really. Them's the breaks. The hiring manager was very positive and encouraging and "it's a shame we only have one opening, we'll keep your resume handy, we're a growing company." The job was in a sales department, so he spread it pretty thick :) Still, it's nice that he made the effort.

Some sour grapes: it REALLY wasn't enough money.

Finally, some self-berating: now, it REALLY sucks that I blew the hospital interview. It sucks REALLY bad. Grrr.

Anniversary

Today, I have been married to my DH for eight years.

Before I married him, I thought I wanted a guy I couldn't push around. There weren't too many guys like that. I have a forceful personality. Ahem.

Instead, I married the most gentle and pleasant and accomodating male human I've ever met. Instead of marrying someone I can't push around, I married someone I never want to push around. I married a man who makes me better than I am.

I've been very insecure in every other relationship I've had with a man. I am totally secure in this one. Even in my darkest times, I've always known I could trust him completely.

My only regret is that we didn't meet sooner. Perhaps I wouldn't have been ready for the relationship if we had met earlier, but the idea of another five years together on the starting end is really nice. As it is, I'm grateful for every day I have.

Clean

A couple of weeks ago, when the New Med started kicking in, I cleaned my kitchen pretty thoroughly. Then, I started looking around and thought to myself "Oh dear. This house is filthy."

I did what any woman would do in my position - I called my mother. We commiserated for a few minutes about my filthy house, and I asked her to come help me clean it. I was kidding. Mom was serious. She said she would run it by my dad first, but she would give me $200 to get the house cleaned. She sent the money on the condition that I would use it for that purpose.

Of course, we spent hours and hours yesterday pre-cleaning. Picking stuff up, throwing and putting it away. Amazing how much work has to be done just so cleaning can begin.

The cleaners showed up at 8:20, a little early. They cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. The owner was along; she's an ex-Marine. Marines are very clean. My father used to be a Marine, and he's the tidiest person I know. I hired this company because the owner used to be a Marine. They did an amazing job. My house is SHINY. It looks positively lovely. Now, I think I want to paint.

My parents are just the best.

On the downside, I blew my interview this morning. Oh, the interview went OK, but I was late. And late is fatal.

Interview(s)

I had an interview yesterday that went VERY well. I took two tests and slammed them both. I also did a great job with the Q&A portion, asking good questions and giving solid answers. The work sounds very interesting, with a solidly profitable family-owned drug company. The money is not very good, but it's better than what I'm making now, which is nothing.

I have an interview with a local hospital (as in, five minutes up the road) on Thursday. I will be interviewing with six(!) people, and they have asked me to prepare a "sample project plan." This is for a very good job (systems analyst), that will probably pay significantly more than the job I've already interviewed for - maybe double.

DH says I should have a goal of earning more than he does. We're so competitive. Har.

I guess the economy IS doing better than the last time I was out of work. Maybe I'll be able to stay on the Northshore, after all.

My Bed

Yesterday in church, somebody told about a workshop at last week's youth conference in which the speakers gave a list of about ten things, with instructions to get rid of two of them. The list included items like:

• a living prophet
• testimony
• job
• gift of the Holy Ghost
• scriptures
• priesthood
• bed
• family
• friends

The speaker said one of the first things to go was the bed. I'll give up my bed when I'm dead, and not a minute before. I have the best bed in the whole world. DH made the bed out of solid cherry. It's unique! Also, the mattress is the perfect mix of firm, but yielding. The first thing I say every night when I climb into bed is "Aaaaaaaaah!"

Painting

I had a really good start to this week. I had lots of energy and got things done. Prozac is good for that. Then I had my Episode on Wednesday, and it has taken me a couple of days to bounce back.

But apparently, I have done so, mostly. I still get this clenched feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about money, but I'm not despairing. What's the worst that can happen? They can't take our house, or two of our cars. None of the debt is secured. Maybe I'll find work really soon, and then things will be just like they were a month ago. That would be a good thing.

In other matters: DH is a book fiend. He thinks nothing decorates a house quite like shelf after shelf after shelf of fifteen year-old professional journals. He's such a science guy. Anyhow, our five-shelf bookshelves did not hold books efficiently - too much wasted space. So he is detaching the fixed shelf on each bookcase and tweaking the shelf heights and converting them to six-shelf bookcases. While he was at it, we went ahead and painted them. The colors now coordinate beautifully with the living room walls, and they look custom made. I'm delighted with the outcome.

I also think it's indicative of how much better I'm doing that I painted bookshelves today.

Episode

I had a depressive episode this morning, early. I couldn't get back to sleep (reflux?) and started thinking about money. I felt better after talking to DH and then sleeping a little more.

I would be willing to wager that this is cyclical.

I took care of the "money stuff" for several years. I did the best I could, but I had really hoped that handing the task over to my extremely smart DH would resolve the problems. According to him, that is not the case. I likened it to spending years keeping bears away from the camp, and then turning the task over to somebody else. Yes, I'm not fighting them off, but I know they're out there...

Weaving

One of the things that happens when you aren't depressed any more is that you want to do stuff. Not just stuff that you have to do to stay alive, like cooking and eating and breathing and showering (I was always doing that, even though I didn't particularly want to). I mean new stuff; stuff that sounds interesting or maybe creative or different.

I'm going to look into weaving. From some of the links I've seen, it can get quite elaborate, but I'm going to start small and easy. I've reserved a book from the library, "Weaving Without a Loom." I figure it'll be a good start. If I enjoy it and stick with it, maybe I'll look for a place to take lessons. And if I don't enjoy it and stick with it, I'll return the book to the library and be no worse off for the effort.

The Shrink

My therapist referred me to a Real Psychiatrist for a medication review. I had told her several weeks ago I was having difficulty motivating myself to reach out to real human beings. When she asked why, I replied, "Because they are vast sucking black holes of need who take and take and take and give nothing back, and I don't have anything to give them."

She replied that I needed to have my medication checked.

Dr. H. is a funny, funny guy. He took my history right onto his computer. As we got toward the end of the interview, he said, "There are three things we can do. No, four things. Well, make that five things." I started to laugh and told him it made me think of a Monty Python routine. He launched into a recitation of the "Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch" bit from the Holy Grail. I told him that wasn't the one I was thinking of, and started to hesitantly describe what little I remembered, at which point he immediately launched into "The Spanish Inquisition":

NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our *three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our *four*...no...*Amongst* our weapons.... Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come in again. (Exit and exeunt)

Not the sort of behavior one expects from a shrink. At least, not what I expect from a shrink.

He diagnosed me with "Major Depressive Disorder, Single Episode, Partially Remitted." He said he could have called it "Multiple Episode" based on my descriptions of my past treatment, but didn't want to do so without adequate documentation. He said partial remission is VERY common among people who get their meds from a primary care physician, and that often just tweaking the meds will move a patient from partial to full remission. He put me on Prozac in addition to the Wellbutrin, because it's cheap, I've had success with it in the past, and the Wellbutrin may counter the sexual side effects that were such a problem the last time I took it.

The day I lost my job, Older Son and I watched "This is Spinal Tap." I loved the scene where Nigel has left the band, and Marty is talking to David about how he feels, and David says, "Well, I'm sure I'd feel much worse if I weren't under such heavy sedation." That's sort of how I was feeling last week. I'm so much better now that I'm properly medicated...