Back from Hawaii on Tuesday, jet lagged all yesterday, and supposed to move into a new apt today.
Problem is, the maintenance guys are still there and I don’t feel confortable going in and out with piles of stuff with them there. AC is at yet another promising job interview and I can only hope it’s like that when I go looking. I guess I will go pack some more stuff until he gets back, but wanted to blog about a certain topic: GUILT.
So I am at a beautiful botanical garden in Hawaii and I see a man wearing at Tulane MBA shirt. He is videoing his wife and they’re making up witty facts about the waterfall flowing behind them. Although I am not one to talk to strangers, I decide that their banter is welcoming and I can remark about how me and my Hawaiian host both went to Loyola. I do this and the guy asks when we graduated. I say 1996. He says, “I got out just before Katrina.” So I imagine this business school fella literally evacuating with diploma in hand. His wife then chimes in, “You graduated 2 years ago!” And he says, “Well comparable to them in 1996…” I say no more. Actually I think I mumble that I am actually from New Orleans, but don’t even bother to see if they heard me. I just resume taking pics.
What the f***? Why on earth would he say something like that when he didn’t have to deal with the storm in any way? Was he actually looking for sympathy? And to think that I often hold back from telling people about my loss because I don’t feel like I had to endure what so many of my friends did. Being the person that I am, I didn’t dare start a verbal sparring with this guy in the middle of a botanical garden, but the episode has lingered with me.
What do you think?