Hoping Things Do Not Fall Apart

I am haunted by the end of the world.

You can ask The Ravishing Mrs. TB.  I have been this way for years.  Constantly seeing the end of things, constantly worried that next year is the end of things.

And then I started believing that it really might be.

You can mock me of course, say that I am worried about things that are either non-extant or are simply overreactions to things that have always been present.  But I am looking at my own future - and quite frankly, it is rather bleak.

If I am fortunate - very, very fortunate - I will be able to retire in the career field that I am currently in, maybe with even a retirement of sorts.  I say fortunate - I am in the throes of the danger time for employees, that late forties/early fifties where the experience is expensive and not as valued as it could be.

I am worried about an economy, an economy which I simply no longer understand, an economy seemingly built on debt which would crush any family or business but somehow just continues to get pushed down the road with no resolution.  An economy in which less and less is made yet somehow we are all better off for it, an economy where less and less is grown yet we are assured that food will always be plentiful.

This uncertainty has made us take a harder look at lives for the first time in a long time.  We are maybe not where we need to be financially but we have a plan; we are not where we need to be to supplement our income and sustainability but I have a plan (of sorts).    Give me five years at the current level of engagement and awareness and we will be in a much different place personally.

My fear is that we simply no longer have five years.