I work in New York in the financial services industry, which has been all too exciting the past several days. But that isn’t really the right word — I glance at the plummeting Dow chart and cringe, but it’s not exciting in the sense of a roller coaster or a horror movie. It’s really more like having a long, dreadful dental procedure where you’re simultaneously bored and terrified.
But I’ve lived through a number of these implosions, and miraculously have never really suffered very badly. My company survives, I remain employed — with frayed nerves and mistrust of authority figures, but no critical damage.
So I’m not as spooked as I used to be. I cling to an atavistic faith that I am innocent, and will therefore will escape unscathed. I’ve lived within my means, saved my money, managed my career — thus, no bolt shall fall upon me. Every day presents me with more and more evidence that this naive belief is cruelly untrue, yet I still hold fast, I suppose because I cannot go on otherwise.
Years ago I had bad scare about my future and ‘coped’ by not getting out of bed for several days. Now, armed with my pathetic little armor of faith, I arise each morning and slog through my day like the obedient worker bee that I am.
The voice of experience, or willful gullibility? Denial or resilience? Block-headed, or admirable? I don’t know, but I’m grateful for the crutch.
Linnetontheleaf 
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