Charming, but single

I have survived the hurricane. My town received considerable rain and wind, but was largely spared the flooding and destruction. I miraculously have electricity at my apartment, so I have officially moved. None of my other family members in town have electricity. (They're part of the one million in Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi who do not.) People are bunking up with relatives as best they can. Phone lines are out. Cell phones are not working correctly. We have no cable or Internet in most cases. (I am using the Internet at a coffee shop right now. It was the only way to find out if I have to work tomorrow and to check my bank account. ATMs are out in many places.) But we are alive, we are dry, we have a place to stay and we have food to eat. This is much more than we can say for hundreds of thousands of others, including members of our family and many friends. I am alternately thankful and terribly guilty for this. Each time I whine about being inconvienced in some way, I immediately feel a sense of shame because people are drowning in their houses waiting to be rescued. I can't watch the news anymore. I just can't take it. Our family from the New Orleans area (Metairie, Kenner and Old Gentilly) is being told that they will not be able to return for at least a month. I have friends from the also hard-hit Northshore who know little about if they even have houses left because there is absolutely no communication there. The emergency workers can't even talk to each other. It is chaos. It is heartbreaking. I am in a daze. I cannot put words to the things we've seen and the stories we've heard and the sheer frustration that everyone is feeling. We kept busy by moving my furniture, cleaning up fallen trees and limbs and tracking down a generator because my whole extended family cannot sleep in my one-bedroom apartment. Will write more later.