I'm not panicking. That's what the big boys and girls on Wall Street get paid to do. Everyone's dream is different; that's why we live in America. We can all go after what we want in a democracy. Yes, I would venture to guess that there were more Christmas gifts from Target than Neiman Marcus under the tree in the last few years.
I share my hopes and dreams with people close to me so this is somewhat daunting to put this out there for others to judge. If you ask any of my kids or friends I'm fairly certain they will tell you that I'm not driven by money. I dream of financial security, which in my life means taking care of me and paying my bills (ok, not in full, but still...).
I grew up with a plastic spoon in my mouth so I never got spoiled with material things. To this day, I reach back to the early 60s whenever I poke around a good consignment shop or rely on "buttered noodles" for dinner. These are coping skills my divorced hardworking mother relied on — it's in my DNA. I don't have a problem with "making do". What I do have a problem with (or should I say my pride does) is when recently my doctor asked my salary and replied in a serious tone, "You need to be on food stamps." Are you kidding? NO.WAY.EVER.
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I've had many "American Dreams" so far in my life. They just change, that's all. I had the brief but fantastic jet-setting career before starting a family. I flew first class all the time when I wasn't flying in the corporate jet. I actually made more money 30 years ago than I do now! My next "American Dream" was building a house with my ex-husband. What a labor of love. Then, raising three fantastic sons and putting them through college. Ah, but divorce knocked on the door and it was time to revise my "American Dream" once again.
The last several years I have lived on my own renting charming apartments and starting a new life. I don't need a bucket of cash to make me happy. I am dealing with financial and legal issues currently that I can't believe I am doing all by myself. Yes, my carriage at Big Y isn't as full as Miss Well-Coiffed Horsey Pants. But, by the grace of God I'm not at the food pantry either. Be grateful for whatever your "American Dream" has in store for you. It will change anyway.
