. . . yeah. I'm in the process of spring cleaning to destress. The markets had an upswing this morning and now they're back down and I'm just uncomfortable so I'm trying to control what I can, which isn't much.
I consoled myself this morning, that if I don't find a new job, I'll keep this job and then start slamming money into my 401k when the market recovers. Which is saying something, cause I think they're fed not by markets, but misery, including mine. But if I'm gonna be miserable, might as well make money off of it. I'll fight for every hour, every penny I can, just to feed it.
Two anecdotes. On Saturday I was talking to a friend of mine who's just past old enough to drink, telling them I've been doing math trying to figure out how I'm gonna be able to survive 60plus financially, if I even live that long. They asked if I figured anything out. I said "Yeah, I should have started when I was your age." The other day, I did a checkup call on my mother. We were talking jobs and retirement and she said I shouldn't bother, because by the time I'm her age nothing will be worth anything. She was joking, of course. Then Friday and Monday and Today happened and suddenly my mother's joke isn't funny anymore.
Nero fiddled while Rome burned. I don't have a fiddle or a city-state to look after. So I guess I'll shred junk mail and chastise myself for buying more fabric than I'll probably need for the next five years. I found a really crappy jacket though, all torn up, I might turn it into a project, so I have that going for me.