As of Wednesday afternoon, this is the five-day forecast for Hurricane Gustav. Perhaps, by the time you read this on Thursday, the forecast line will have shifted. Or not.

If you look at the state of Louisiana, you’ll see a tiny circle of water near the toe. I live directly above that circle.

Am I dealing with post-Katrina-stress-syndrome?

Like you wouldn’t believe.

Yesterday, Ken and I were in the grocery–a trip we’d planned even before Gustav decided to be difficult–and I could feel the ripples of panic. Even though bread and water were still on the shelves, all it would have taken would have been one cart stocked with hurricane supplies to start the frenzy.

I downloaded the “Emergency Preparedness Kit Checklist” from the website set up by the new governor’s office (www.getagameplan.org). Kudos to Gov. Jindal for the foresight, but someone left TOILET PAPER off the list.  Some of the items are curious…like tape. If flying debris comes through any of our windows, tape’s just not going to matter.  We opt not to board our windows because we have twelve of them across the back of our house alone. I don’t want to wait out a hurricane feeling as if I’m in a ginormous coffin. Plus, if there’s a tree falling, I want to know which direction NOT to run in.

We happen to live in an area 100′ above sea level. Flooding isn’t the issue. It’s being surrounded by pine trees, wind damage, and the resulting weeks of no electricity. We stayed for Katrina.  An experience I said I’d not repeat.

Now I’m not so sure. The notion of moving at the speed of three miles per hour for 350 miles, trapped in the contra-flow with other post-K survivors makes watching 150 mph winds whip around your house seem like a Universal Studios ride.

But here’s what I love about my state. The first LSU game is Saturday at four in the afternoon. The game will go on. The contra-flow will work around it.

We have our priorities, you know. The Tigers are, after all, trying for a third National Championship.