but with all the news coverage today of people returning to their homes in Jefferson Parish (to take photos and bury the rotting meat in their backyard), and the small band of folks celebrating the Decadence Festival in the French Quarter, I feel like maybe some people out there are confused and wondering why the rest of us haven't returned to our homes. We can't. And even for those of us who may actually have houses standing intact, it is a strange kind of limbo knowing that on one hand we have nothing, and on the other, perhaps we may eventually return to discover everything untouched: the unfinished Joan Didion memoir next to the tub, the clothes tossed next to it on the floor.
But it may be many many months before we get back, and many people will never have that chance at all. So do we wait, or move forward, or struggle to find some awkward position in between?
Perhaps the answer is for all of us to get press credentials.