As I’ve said many times, I always go straight to the worst case scenario. Every headache is brain cancer. Every missed phone call is someone calling with horrible life-altering news. Every meeting with my boss means immediate termination.
Which is why it always feels vaguely like I’ve failed when something actually bad happens and I didn’t adequately anticipate it. Like, say, massive saltwater intrusion from the Gulf making our water (even more) undrinkable.
When I first saw people, midweek, posting online about buying bottled water, my initial thought was, “Ahh, shit, another boil order?”
But no. Nothing so mundane. Nothing so simple. Saltwater in our water system could absolutely bring the city to its knees. Nothing – except, yeah, OK, oxygen – is more essential than water. What were we going to do?!?!?!
By the time of the Friday press conference, I was on the brink of hysteria, but then after all was said and done, I, unexpectedly, calmed down and actually believed that it would be OK. They’d bring in barges; sure, that makes sense. They’d flush the water system. This has happened before. We have a precedent. We can deal with it. I put in an order for a Kentwood system, but hey, I’d been meaning to do that for months anyway.
Of course, come Sunday, I was a mess again. Yes, we’d dealt with this before – but for days, not months. The barges of water? Pure theatre. My Kentwood system? Wouldn’t fix the problem of saltwater in my pipes, in my appliances, in my office HVAC system. What were we going to do?!?!?!
But then I joined my neighbors across the street for our usual twilight glass of wine and front yard dog romp … and I calmed down again.
I still don’t know what to believe. I still am freaking out, alternating with not freaking out.
But at least for now, I have good neighbors.
And that – impending catastrophe mixed with incomparable companionship – is the true New Orleans experience.
