*%!$@!!!!
I'm putting this under an LJ cut... because... *sigh* just because. I'm... frickin' upset. Mad, like kill-somebody-upset.
Well. Remember that neighbour? She was supposed to be in New Orleans. But she took a detour and has been staying with a friend all the way in Arizona. *sigh of relief* She called her daughter just an hour ago, apparently oblivious to the fact that a hell of a lot of people - most notably her daughter - were worried sick. Worried Sick. She thought that we all know that she's staying with her friend. Like... hello? Not a psychic here.
However, that aside, I must admit what a nerve-wrecking experience that was. I was worried for her and for her daughter's sake for the whole day and already I was mentally drained. It's only been a little over 24 hours of worrying and already I was... I wish I have a bigger vocabulary *sigh*. I spent a day worrying and I was this close to insanity. And I'm not even family. I can't even start to think what her daughter must've felt, worrying for days on end. And come to think of it, pointless worrying. Worrying that could have been avoided if only the mother was wise enough to leave a contact number and/or call whenever she decided on a detour, and not think that everybody's a psychic of some sort.
Even more bizarre, she called not because it was a thing to do, you know: informing her daughter that she's okay an' all. She called because she wanted to know the latest Eastenders plot-twist. I mean, come the fuck on! Here's a daughter worried sick about her mother, who cried every time pictures of New Orleans came up on telly, or when her uncle or dad told her that there's no news yet of her mother... and the mother's worried about East-frickin'-enders. A great piece of parenting, when I see one.
But anyway, back to worrying. That was a feeling I never want to wish upon anyone, not even my worst enemy. It was like watching the clock ticked by and with each hour, there's a feeling of helplessness and like you don't even know whether it's saner to stop hoping or hope so hard until they put you into the ground. It was the most horrible feeling. Like horrible. You can't sleep, can't eat, and I felt like I wanted to throw things at people or scratch the skin bloody. Like... wanting to do something, anything.
And damn. East-flippin'-enders?!
Fug! *%!$@!!!!
But anyway, I watched the Special News Report on BBC1. I was glad that most of the Brits arrived safely, and they're young, teenagers backpacking across the US and... I suppose it was an experience that they really didn't expect. I'm glad they're safe and happily reunited with their family. And I'm glad that relief efforts have started to really step up a gear. I just hope that those poor people are attended to and taken care of, and most of all, respected. They don't deserve to be neglected like that.
Well. Remember that neighbour? She was supposed to be in New Orleans. But she took a detour and has been staying with a friend all the way in Arizona. *sigh of relief* She called her daughter just an hour ago, apparently oblivious to the fact that a hell of a lot of people - most notably her daughter - were worried sick. Worried Sick. She thought that we all know that she's staying with her friend. Like... hello? Not a psychic here.
However, that aside, I must admit what a nerve-wrecking experience that was. I was worried for her and for her daughter's sake for the whole day and already I was mentally drained. It's only been a little over 24 hours of worrying and already I was... I wish I have a bigger vocabulary *sigh*. I spent a day worrying and I was this close to insanity. And I'm not even family. I can't even start to think what her daughter must've felt, worrying for days on end. And come to think of it, pointless worrying. Worrying that could have been avoided if only the mother was wise enough to leave a contact number and/or call whenever she decided on a detour, and not think that everybody's a psychic of some sort.
Even more bizarre, she called not because it was a thing to do, you know: informing her daughter that she's okay an' all. She called because she wanted to know the latest Eastenders plot-twist. I mean, come the fuck on! Here's a daughter worried sick about her mother, who cried every time pictures of New Orleans came up on telly, or when her uncle or dad told her that there's no news yet of her mother... and the mother's worried about East-frickin'-enders. A great piece of parenting, when I see one.
But anyway, back to worrying. That was a feeling I never want to wish upon anyone, not even my worst enemy. It was like watching the clock ticked by and with each hour, there's a feeling of helplessness and like you don't even know whether it's saner to stop hoping or hope so hard until they put you into the ground. It was the most horrible feeling. Like horrible. You can't sleep, can't eat, and I felt like I wanted to throw things at people or scratch the skin bloody. Like... wanting to do something, anything.
And damn. East-flippin'-enders?!
Fug! *%!$@!!!!
But anyway, I watched the Special News Report on BBC1. I was glad that most of the Brits arrived safely, and they're young, teenagers backpacking across the US and... I suppose it was an experience that they really didn't expect. I'm glad they're safe and happily reunited with their family. And I'm glad that relief efforts have started to really step up a gear. I just hope that those poor people are attended to and taken care of, and most of all, respected. They don't deserve to be neglected like that.