It dawned on me that a good cry might help. I've read that it can help flush out bad brain chemistry and it may have worked in the past. So I pushed myself into crying on Peg's shoulder and you know, I do feel better.

Still scared shitless for the cats. Did a little research and at least reassured myself that evacuations don't happen *that* often in NOLA. But they still happen often enough that we'll probably have to go through this at least once during their lifetimes.

I am gonna write some more local cat charities in the morning and hope one of them eventually actually gets back to me with either some practical advice or a "nah, they're usually fine." Or even a "yeah, it's part of living down here, you get used to it."

'Cause the guilt of not doing enough for them would wreck me, possibly lethally.