There is something incredibly surreal about my life right now. I am sitting in an all-but-vacant building, working on communicating with our customers and employees, working out a plan “just in case” the worst happens… alone (sort of). I’m watching the continuing news coverage of the hurricane. I’m listening to stories about people running out of gas on the highway before they even get out of Houston. I’m not leaving.

I still haven’t heard from Criscella and her gang, and I haven’t heard anything about Dad. That means that they are still on the road somewhere. Evacuating.

Jessica tells me, in one of her calls from Dallas, of the people who keep calling her, on the road to Dallas, stuck in traffic, worried and scared. Jess, Omar and Mom left last night, so it only took 11 hours to get to Dallas (normally a five-hour trip), and they actually found a hotel room (which took an act of God, almost). Everyone else seems to be winging it, and they all left at 2 or 3 a.m. today, which seems to make all the difference in the world. (People on the news are talking about only gettng 47 miles in 10 hours.)

A couple of hours ago I did the early hotel registration thing, and asked what the hurricane plan is there. I haven’t slept, I barely packed anything in my car and am worried about the possibility of losing all my worldly possessions. (Pasadena is a storm surge area for a category 3 hurricane, Rita vascillates between a 4 and a 5.)

I think I’m too sleep-deprived to really feel fear right now. I’m sure it will hit me later.