mmm... tequila and lime juice. That's pretty much the only way I want to have a rita right now. Unfortunately it looks like I'm going to have a bigger, less alcoholic, one shoved down my throat.
Hurricane Rita, like everything in Texas, is looking like it's putting Katrina to shame. With any luck, the damage to the city will not be as Texas sized, but Galveston will surely get its ass kicked.
What am I doing? I'm pretty much stuck sticking it out. I've been wavering for a day about leaving. So far I've made the right decision. The three major hurricane evacuation routes, I-10, 45, and 290, are multi-laned parking lots. The medians are the resting places for those cars who have overheated (from the strain of moving at less than 3 miles an hour - this is not one of those made up numbers, 9 hours, 24 miles) or have run out of gas.
I am packed. I have the dog stuff packed. I do not have the car packed because I don't even have the vaguest idea of how to do that. However, I'm not ready to go yet. Until I see cars moving on I45 at a pace that would get me to Dallas in less than 8 hours, I'm not going. I cannot afford to be on the highway in a 2 seater convertible with 2 dogs on drugs in the heat, keeping my a/c off to conserve gas... If in 5 hours the traffic drops because they've opened the southbound lanes of these highways to northbound traffic, then I will leave.
I feel like shit. I need sleep. I need my mother to stop calling me preventing me from getting any and telling me to do things that are more dangerous than staying still. I'm just very tired.