Last year around this time, my stocks were worth $189.00 a share. In December, they fell to half that amount. Now they are scrambling to make a rocky comeback, but it's a slippery slope.
Welcome to Recession '09.
At the time of this writing, unemployment has risen sharply to 15% across the US map. Here in Austin it hovers between 9-11%. Not as bad, but certainly above comfort level.
I think the only good thing about this ordeal is that gas isn't above four dollars a gallon. Not sure who to thank for that small favor. Seems even the oil moguls can't raise a good buck these days. Auto sales lots are laden with overstocked goods, unable to move even the least expensive of their inventory. The hits just keep coming.
My family hasn't truly felt the bitter bite of this mess called recession just yet—until today. Today, my husband was given a month's notice (generous in this age) to find a new place of employment. I glanced at the help wanted section of the local job website. True, there are jobs, but they have dismal pay rates. We've struggled to hold it together through a 20% cut in income, imposed back in January, and now...I suppose that was good practice.
I have a great job, that in this market almost pays me too much for the position. Back in 2007-2008 fiscal years, it was below standard. I'm grateful, but somewhat discouraged by it. The economy has lowered all standards of living, and it continues to do so. The question is, where will it end? Should we be complaining?
After all, we've had it good for the past five years, haven't we? Is it America's turn to just let it slide?
This recession has injected a new vocabulary for the general public: stimulus, recession, bail-out. That's tight, even the name sounds really sleazy.
There are dozens of different viewpoints on how the tax dollars should be spent, yet I can see the reasoning behind the bail-out of the banks. It's to hold this crumbly building up just a little while longer while we redo the landscaping around it, ie: the rest of the economy. It's a crutch, a splint, a big fat band-aid over a sore that refuses to go away.
Now the question remains: Who has the cure for what ails our failing economy?