Recessions Are Bad For Kids
Last week when the yield on the 30 year treasury bond plunged to the lowest point ever, I became extremely worried. What if my mother who lives on a fixed income, lost all her money in this recession, and couldn’t pay her mortgage, and had to move into my one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles? It would be a disaster.
And don’t get me wrong. I love my mother. Really, I do. But I can already hear her list of complaints.
I don’t live close enough to a supermarket. My building isn’t safe. My dog smells. I shouldn’t keep my towels and underwear in the same drawer. The dishwasher doesn’t work. The fridge isn’t cold. The apartment is too cold. The oven temperature isn’t accurate. I need new sheets. I’m not married. I should treat my clothes better. Eating out is a waste of money. I drink too much. I swear too much. And would it kill me to be just a little bit nicer to her.
And those are just the complaints. I’d still have to live by her crazy rules which landed me in therapy for eight years.
And the truth is it’s one thing if you have to live by your parent’s rules when you’re in their house, but it’s completely unfair when you have to live by their rules when you’re in your own house.
Which is why I’m pleading to Bernake to do what ever he has to do to fix the economy because I just can’t be ten again.
