Okay. I feel like I've mostly recuperated from my rather unladylike sellin' the house post. (Momentary tax freak-out not withstanding.) I still wish things were other than they are. But who doesn't in recent days?
Which brings me to my point. Reader Jenn gently, kindly, and tactfully pointed out that I, at least, have a house to sell.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love thee, internets? Just that very day, I'd been perusing other posts and feeling a bit miffed at others who are far more fortunate than myself lamenting the instability of their stock portfolios and all the extra Tiffany boxes taking up space in their closets. "Oh, come on!" I thought.
Thank God somebody held up a mirror.
I'm not gonna lie, I'll still bitch and moan and mourn, but it will be markedly less. Because we do still have options (okay, option). And others don't. And none of us - NONE. OF. US. - truly brought all of this upon ourselves. Well, except for Stanford, Madoff, and the like.
So there you have it: One woman's despair is another woman's desire. Let's raise our reused Dixie cups in a toast, shall we? To better days, and less bitchy posts.
