Post #199100 by purple jade on Sun, Nov 20, 2005 10:51 AM

Well, after waiting for roughly ten weeks for our insurance claim to be processed and a check cut so we could have some idea of how to get on with our lives, we just found out today we're going to be supremely screwed by FEMA, who OOPSY! ran out of money to pay off all the claims before they could get to ours, despite the fact we've been paying premiums for over ten years and filed our claim less than 24 hours after the storm. So we can't pay our mortgage, which means the bank will foreclose, and we'll lose the last thing we might have had to our names, our piece of sh*t flooded property that we might have at least sold to some carpetbagging opportunist for half its value. And, last we heard, after Jan. 7th, FEMA will no longer pay for temporary housing in hotels. The only other option given is an 8 X 30 trailer with one window the size of a TV tray, either in one of the lovely trailer communities in the middle of nowhere ( not feasible since we need to be within range of a hospital with a good cardiac unit )or we could put in on a merciful friend's or relative's property. But we can't have the cats in it. So that's not an option at all.

I've really tried to stay optimistic about this but I don't think I can do it anymore. I'm tired of driving four hours every day to clean up a house that I'm most likely going to lose, throwing away what little money we have on ridiculously expensive gasoline. I'm tired of the blocked sinuses, dry cough, and headache from the mold, the back and body aches from hauling out wet books and clothes and furniture. Tired of walking away from an ever-increasing pile of garbage every day that used to be valuable collectibles and treasured sentimental objects and having to keep telling myself "they're just things". I'm tired of having to be polite to the daily ubiquitous five or six church groups that stop by not to pitch in and help but to waste the very limited work time I have to ask me if I "know who my saviour is". Tired of being cramped in a less than luxurious hotel room with a toilet that runs noisily and constantly, and upstairs tenants that apparently have Ubangi Stomp marathons at 3:00AM. Tired of spending just about every waking hour cleaning some thing or another. Tired of trying not to face the facts that my husband and I will not be able to enjoy a comfortable retirement because of recent events. Tired of worrying about having no health insurance and a husband who has had two heart attacks. Tired of worrying about dragging my cats around to strange places and not being able to afford to keep their vaccinations current.

To those TC members who have tried to help me out, I do thank you so much, and it's for you that I've tried to keep a happy face. But I don't think I can pretend anymore that "everything's going to turn out alright". Because I just don't see how it can. And it's unbelievably hard to listen to people here talk so casually about breezing in and opening clubs and having Mardi Gras gatherings in MY city that has been cruelly ripped out from under me, MY home out of which I have been cast. There's no party there for me, no fruity umbrella drinks, no jazz and beads and girls gone wild, no funky folks and vintage clothes. The French Quarter might still be a great place for the tourists and "bohemians", but if you bother to step outside of it, here's a hell of a lot of devastation elswhere. It's just a lot of broken dreams and heartache.

[ Edited by: purple jade 2005-11-20 10:56 ]