bitter and humiliated on Ash Wednsday
I spent my Mardi Gras in a pit of self-centered depression, crying and whining about our being in New Jersey instead of HOME, catching beads, shoes and coconuts, finishing off eleven days of introducing Persephone to her first season of Carnival parades.
Right when I dragged my pathetic ass up to bed, Doug Shimell from NBC 10 called to ask to come over and interview his favorite pathetic Katrina family about this year's Mardi Gras. I didn't want to let Doug down.
I FUCKING CRIED ON FUCKING TV.
People lost family members and I cried about missing a few sacks of plastic beads.
On TV.
Christ.
Today I'm angry and bitter.
Angry with my mother for convincing me that my home wasn't worth saving. Angry that she dragged me away without a chance at salvaging what remained of my possessions, once she knew that she was getting her fucking hundred grand from the insurance company.
Angry that I did as I was told by my mother and husband, instead of fighting to clear my house and put it back together.
I'm angry with the Army Corps of Engineers for knowing they'd built shoddy levees and refusing to fix them before that bitch of a storm hit.
I'm angry with my husband for keeping my child and me here, claiming that this is the best place for him to find work, yet doing NOTHING to actually get a job.
I'm angry with the University of New Orleans for conveniently losing Persephone's insurance forms, leaving her uninsured now that they've fired my husband.
I'm even angry with my father, Bill "sack of shit" Schorer, for knowing I was in New Orleans and not even bothering to try to find out if I survived the storm. As far as he knows, I'm dead.
posted by Unknown @ 2:36 AM
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