In Which I Dispense with the Elephant Crap Metaphor

Don’t know what I’m talking about?  Check here.  Still don’t know what I’m talking about?  Then I’d say it’s safe to assume that’s because I’m not making any sense.

I would like to use this forum to say a lot of bad words about the economy, but my mom reads this site, so I will try to edit a little.  Also, I am possibly the teensiest bit drunk, which also indicates that prophylactic editing would not be out of order.  (By which I mean, Mom, that I am basking in the glow of your grandchildren’s smiles, and it makes me feel drunk.  Of course.)

OK, so.  The economy.  And the, um, some-time beach goers who got us here.  You used to be my clients.  I spent hours of my life making sure that your mortgage-backed security and credit-default swap trades got posted just so.  I never did understand, back then, exactly how it all worked.  I always assumed I must be missing something.  After all, I came into the world of finance without any background in the area.  Surely, smarter people than I had figured out where all the money really was.  It all made sense to somebody.

Yeah.  Turns out that even though I didn’t understand it completely, and still don’t, I might not’ve been so dumb.  There was no money to back it all up.  You greedy, um, donkey butts were so enthralled with finding out how far the smoke-and-mirrors game would go, that you never considered the consequences.

It’s pointless for me to feel guilty now.  It’s been over 2 years since I worked in that branch of the finance world.  Even when I did, I worked for one of the most ethical companies in the game, and I had nowhere near the authority to change anything about the rules of that game.

And yet…

My friend’s husband got laid off this week.  She, a SAHM, is expecting baby #3.  My sister-in-law, expecting baby #1, just had to take a pay-cut to try to stave off lay-offs.  This (screw it — close your eyes, Mom) clusterfuck is hitting too close to home.

And I know just who to blame.

Tap, tap, tap. Is this thing on?

Did you know that you can update your Facebook status with just a few words, while it takes multiple SENTENCES to fill up any kind of space on a blog?  It’s a wonderful thing, and it provides instant feedback.  With this blog deal, I have to wait until you check your blogroll or Google Reader* and THEN I have to wait for comments.  I am not so good with the waiting.

Also, it turns out I don’t have much to say these days.  There are plenty of my-kids-are-adorable (or frustrating) stories, always forgotten by the time I make it to the computer.  There’s a lot of whining about how my job sucks, but I am SOOOOOO glad to have the paycheck that I can’t help but suck up the whining and attempt a grateful attitude.

And there are stories like this cliffhanger, which I will leave you with since I am here and maybe you are too:  I bought new bras and underwear yesterday.  I had Orange and Apple with me, so I did not try on the bras, which of course are too small.**  So now I need to choose: lose 10 pounds (on my to-do list anyway), learn to love the back fat as I have learned to embrace the muffin top, or exchange them for the correct size (which is what I will eventually do, because I am a responsible grown-up and I am not intimidated by the teenager at Target’s return counter).***

*Well, let’s not kid ourselves.  At this point, nobody’s checking for content here anymore.

**Jellyman — the band is too small, not the cups.  Sorry.

***Yes, Target.  Shut up.