My Folks Personal Hurricane Disaster
07-11-05, 12:49 PM

With a lapful of manila folders, my outstretched arms rest across as my fingers rapidly peck at the keyboard. An overwhelming sense of anxiety pits in my stomach and my heart beats a little faster while I try to organize a weeks worth of meetings and deadlines while envisioning the requirements and particulars for a new project. Sometimes paralysis occurs when I bog down on the details rather than steamrolling forward. An annoying little thought wants greasy, comfort food for lunch, but instead I�m strung-out on four, large cups of coffee while I type away my stress and self-doubt.

This morning I called California and told them not to consider me for the job that I interviewed poorly for last Thursday or Friday. On the bright side, the headhunter from Florida called to state the C.O.O. will call to coordinate a time for a telephone interview. At least I feel at ease, so far, with my dealings with this recruiter but I wonder if he, too, is a siren building me up for this position. By tomorrow, we will know if these are truths or salesmanship.

This morning, with an email listing my scope of work and requirements, I took control of the industrial plant reclamation project. The email�s tone was one who is in charge and barking orders for material and requirements for me to get started. It has been awhile since I have created a financial pro forma but with review tonight, I think it will be like riding a bike. What I am afraid of is committing myself to helping these people then leaving shortly after before the job is complete. However, if my memory still serves me well, I could crank this out within a few days and be done with it. Then, all the problems and fall-out is their problem.

�I think it is time that I may have to go into a home.� Dad said for the first time but will he remember this hours later? Saturday night he had no recollection of awaking four times and causing havoc by falling out of bed; being stuck on the floor; trying to catheterize himself then spilling the urine on the bathroom floor; and finally crapping himself while in bed. Sunday morning my mother called and asked if I would come over to help her as she relayed the previous night�s events.

When I arrived, my father was sitting naked upon his electric scooter and requiring assistance to dress. From the dark circles around my mother�s eyes, they gave evidence of little sleep and despair. Without a word, I began to dress my father and help trying to clean assorted messes and make the bed with fresh sheets. Although I planned to finish my chores in my house, instead I opted to lift their burden.

For three hours, I stayed and talked over morning coffee while serving dad�s breakfast. Later in the afternoon, I returned with groceries and cooked a Mexican style dinner that included margaritas, saut�ed shrimp, grilled chicken and a variety of hors d'oeuvres. What can I say? My agenda was two fold: the margaritas and Mexican food reminded of good times I had with friends a few years back and it would be a change of pace for the folks.

As a side observation, CNN, as well as Americans, get their rocks off of planned destruction and devastation as evident of 72 hour coverage of the hurricane Dennis. For 48 hours we learned of a hurricane�s force and how it is developed. Although news worthy and for safety sake, the network conveyed the time of land fall and this year, as opposed to last year�s hurricanes, Dennis would hit land during the day! With intrepid reporters and cameramen, once again, we viewed rain gear dressed reporters lean into 70 mile hour winds and try to speak as the winds race down his/her throat. Christ, I even planned our Sunday dinner around the time the hurricane was to hit so we had something of interest to watch!

Enough of day blogging.

Yesterday - Tomorrow