I was going to tell some funny stories about how all year we've joked around about the economy - how I call him and ask "Are you at a desk . . .ooor on a curb?". How I frequently suggest that he should ask his boss if he's thirsty or needs a back rub or maybe a new puppy? Boy, how we've laughed.
We've joked about the precarious situation we're in because that's how we - mostly me - deal with unpleasant things. I always joke about what I fear most as a way of getting comfortable with it (like when I tell Chris I want my headstone to say "I told you I was sick!").
There's no joking any more.
Chris works for one of the last standing banks. They've struggled all year desperately trying to battle this sinking economy while losing hundreds of millions of dollars every month. Last week the news came that they're looking for a buyer and if they don't find one by next month, the government will seize the company.
I have absolutely no idea what this means. I mean, I can grasp that it's bad news, especially with their stock losing 95% of it's value in a matter of months, but I don't know how it will affect Chris specifically.
There's so much going on in my head right now. Regret for not saving money when we had it, gratitude for what we still have, fear over what the future brings, and shame over the years I spent not being grateful.
I cried until there were no more tears left when I found out. But, not Chris. Chris said "I'm a valuable commodity out there. We'll be fine" and then he went to the gym. (Maybe he has a small trust fund I don't know about? He sells watches out of his trunk? He's going to hide his dismembered thumb in some chili?)
The funny thing is, all evidence to the contrary, I believe him. We will be ok. Because I believe in him. Chris is the sort of guy you want with you during an earthquake or if you get trapped in an elevator or when you're out of Reduced Fat Ruffles. I know we will be ok because I know he will make sure of it.
Characteristically, this whole situation is making me a little emotional. Like this morning when I was watching the cats play and languishing in the doorway with my coffee. I whimpered to Chris "Look at how fat and fluffy they are. I just feel so blessed that they have food in their bowls and Savannah has a closet full of clothes and we have a kitchen full of groceries! We're so blessed!". *SOB*
Chris looked up from where he was tying his shoes. "Uh huh." He stood up. "I gotta get going."
I relayed this story to my mom about how I'm blessed (you know, with cat food) and Chris' puzzling reaction and she replied "He's in survival mode. He's focused on a solution and you're not".
I agreed. "You're so right! It's like he's trying to start a fire and build a tent and gather food and I'm over here going 'These leaves are itchy!'. I'm no help at all!".
So, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. (Although I do have one more Sara McLaughlin song left to listen to while I wail pathetically. But, then for sure.) I will look forward. I will think positively. I will send out resumes and market for new clients for my business. I'm going to do whatever I can to make this better for us. I owe my family that.
But, you should tell your husbands to be nice to their Hooters waitresses just in case.
Wake me when the Dow's up.