Tonight, the Krewe of Oak (Outrageous and kinky) paraded the streets of my neighborhood. I’d forgotten they would be out until I heard the brass band from inside my house. First I stepped out to see what I could see. NOPD had blocked the street and I could hear the bands play. I stepped back inside and resolved to stay in.
“You’re too tired,” whispered my anxiety. I sat down. I kept hearing the music. So I got up and started to dress. Then stopped. Said, “It’s too cold.” Got back into my house clothes. Kept hearing the music. Started dressing again.
For some reason, this week my anxiety has been all over the place. It keeps telling me I can’t handle the parades and the people. It tells me to be afraid. Yet every time I step out, everything is great. It’s magical and full of all the glitter, sequins, and wonder of New Orleans.
So, tonight, I joined that number and second lined with the Krewe of Oak. Because this is New Orleans and this is my home. This is why I came back. Anxiety be damned.
