I've decided to jump.
Before Congress has the dubious pleasure of pushing me off and watching me tumble into financial oblivion, I've decided to save them the trouble and hurl myself over the edge. If there's going to be another Recession I'd like to get a jump start if you don't mind. If we all did the same before they were required to come up with more plans to save us and newer agendas to ignore us, it might save enough money to balance the checks and balances with enough left over to see the next generation through retirement and then some. Think about it. Then they could all stand on the imaginary edge and push each other off the imaginary cliff and be done with it.
We won't mind.
The "Fiscal Cliff" is now more popular than Madonna and not exposing half as much. It probably has its own Wikipedia page by now. Mothers-to-be everywhere are scrambling to change the names of their baby boys previously named Cliff in utero as not to jinx their prosperity.
And what about all those holiday vacation plans and Walmart layaway accounts already activated? Santa made a deal with scores of middle-class customers whose kids want an iPhone under the tree and a pair of Uggs. This is how it works: When you live paycheck to paycheck, you pay paycheck to paycheck. The North Pole understands that, why can't Congress? People don't have the time or energy anymore to worry about how much of their hard-earned Washington-bundled money is going to be left for some faraway retirement. They're just worried about how to get that toy out of layaway. It would help if there's enough left over to light the Christmas tree and buy Santa some cookies. 'Cause that's what they promised their kids. And they'll do a darn better job keeping that promise than you ever did managing their well-earned futures. That's what they trusted you to do.
I am wearing of listening to people predict how we're all going to fall down and get majorly scuffed up at the stroke of midnight December 31st. Please. Do you think I'm scared of a little fall? I am not returning anything I bought for Christmas after Christmas. I am not eating beanie-weanies and I am not taking this hat back either!
So just in case...Come January 1, 2013 if you do not have this problemo solved-o, you'll find me staring up from the abyss in my not-paid-for Toyota with my resume in hand and my hair flopping out the window as usual. First stop, Washington D.C. I am bringing large glass empty 5-gallon pickle jars to the Federal Reserve Building. I want all the money I've paid into Social Security for the past thirty years funneled into the containers in loose change. I don't trust you with it anymore. After I have properly pickled and preserved my money as any southern girl worth her cucumber rinds can do, I will then drive it back to Bloggingham in my not-paid-for Toyota and bury it in the ground where it won't have to worry about the price of a dollar in China. And since a paper dollar is now worth 4 cents in America, I only want metal coins. At least I can make earrings.
While the rest of the world is panicking at the bottom of the black hole of doom, I will be accumulating lots of interest and a bunch of attention from nutty people who want to know my secret for success. I will be debt free and my money will be dirty - but who cares?
At least I'll know which way the currency flows.