The Electrical Reliability Council of Texas made national news in mid-February, 2021, when millions of Texans lost power during Winter Storm Uri. For those of us with especially visceral memories of long days and nights spent freezing  and stranded, ERCOT’s return to the headlines on June 15 was alarming.

Even worse, stories detailing ERCOT’s request that Texans conserve energy-- or risk rolling blackouts—were often prefaced with reminders that the first Tropical Disturbance of the 2021 Gulf Hurricane season had emerged days earlier.

As a local, I was immediately reminded of Raj Mankad's post-Uri essay in the Chronicle, "Houston is a cheap place to live - if you don't count the trauma tax." Winter Storm Uri was traumatizing, and rumors of further blackouts-- possibly during a hurricane—should have had me hoarding bottled water. Instead, I had inertia. I had inertia even after the universe sent two glaring signs. I had inertia even though I’ve been extremely serious about disaster “prepping” for the past three years, because of Harvey. To be caught unprepared would be ironic in three ways at once.

Disasters are terrible. When one comes, we all just want to get through it with as much dignity and as little discomfort as possible. I was working for a suburban municipality at that time, about twenty miles south of my house. Huge numbers of homes were gutted, including about those of about half of my coworkers. When it was safe to return to work, I was sent to help evacuees file FEMA claims at our shelter. Although my home was unscathed, the trauma I saw in the people at the shelter stayed with me. The recovery progressed slowly, and Harvey will still very much on my mind when I started Christmas shopping.

I knew what to buy for my family and closest friends, but as soon as I hit the first stumper, I remembered Harvey. Everyone got crank radios that year, and I bought myself a water can, some water purification tablets, a can of freeze-dried macaroni and cheese, and a crank radio.

Once Christmas had passed, and I had control of my budget again, I looked at my little disaster supply stockpile and decided to get serious.

I sat down to make a plan. The way I saw it, I needed an exit strategy and a shelter-in-place strategy. As mentioned, the goal is to get through the disaster with as much dignity and as little discomfort as possible. The ideal exit strategy would involve a summer home in the mountains or a nice hotel, so there was nothing to do there except stockpile cash.

The ideal shelter-in-place strategy is “don’t run out of food or water.” I set myself I goal of preparing for two people to live for one month inside our house without leaving. I made an amazon cart. For three years I used my rewards points every month to gradually purchase each item on the list, prioritizing collapsible water cans and nonperishable food. I also bought a solar phone charger and a camping potty.

We didn’t need any of it during Uri. We needed a generator.

I had one in my cart! But sometimes I didn’t use all of my points on supplies. Sometimes I bought handbags. To remedy this, I made the generator the only thing on my birthday wish list, and It’s in my garage as I write this.

I’m so close to being ready! I’m only one errand and one hundred dollars away: we just need to fill the gas can and buy a fan.

And yet, I feel inertia—and it’s because of the other shoe. The Snowpocalypse was one shoe. ERCOT’s recent warning just reminded us all about the other one. Gravity means its landing is predetermined. If I’m in its path, I won’t know until it’s too late to run, but if I run I might find out I was safer where I was.

Still, there’s a difference between sheltering in place and sheltering while sweltering.

I am ordering the fan today. Tomorrow, I will fill the can. If you’re feeling like I am, I hope you’ll interrupt your inertia, too.