7 Steps to Surviving the Economy

This recession has hit a lot of people pretty hard. Luckily, I don't have to worry about the Dow Jones or foreign markets because no matter how many Yen I can get for my dollar, we're always some shade of flat broke.

Learning to enjoy being destitute is similar to working through the 7 stages of grief.
If you find yourself newly pauperized, take heart! I'm offerring the following step-by-step guide to being happily hard-up.

Step 1. Shock and Denial.
(This step cannot be completed without your Grandma's flannel pajamas and a wool rug.)

A)Put on the jammies.
B)Now moonwalk across the rug until your hair stands on end.
C)Now open your bank statement.

Zap! A current of white hot energy will travel directly from the envelope, up to your frontal lobe, then straight to your empty wallet. Do NOT cry. Water is an excellent conductor of electricity and you can't afford a visit to the ER.

Your spouse will come running into the room at the sound of your demonic wails and ask you what came in the mail. Deny everything. Ever heard the phrase, "what you don't know can't hurt you?" This isn't true, but we'll use it as our working model.

Put down the vodka, we've still got 6 steps to go.

Step 2. Pain and Guilt.

I've never had pain engulf my soul so entirely as when I found a slimming red peacoat at Macy's for 70% off and realized I couldn't hide the purchase from my husband. How do you wear half of a tomato-colored Indonesian sheep and not get asked, "Where did that come from?" It's impossible! It's painful. It must be how parents feel when they watch their children leave for college. They want so badly to take them back home, but they know if they do, they'll have to keep washing their laundry and giving them gas money. In the end, it's just not worth it.

The guilt I feel over leaving that coat behind is impossible to describe in the space I have here. I could have given it an excellent home, taken it out to dinner, steamed its linen liner... I also had plans to mate it with a pair of sophisticated leather driving gloves. Who knows where it is now? Probably collecting dust in the closet of a woman waiting to lose those last five pounds before she wears it. Some people.

Step 3. Anger and Bargaining.

Anger and bargaining are one in the same, or within the framework of the 7 steps of grief, should have been combined to read "Angry Bargaining."

Angry bargaining occurs when you spend 15 minutes hunting down a specific brand of soup at the grocery store to save 35 cents, and then find that the coupon expired last Wednesday. You ask the clerk if they will still honor the discount, and when they don't, you hurl an onion at the register.

Angry bargaining takes place when you tell your children to eat the generic spaghetti sauce, even though it tastes like fish and expired last week. When that fails, you start pouring the cheap stuff into the more expensive jar and convince them that they're certifiably insane. This isn't difficult if they've taken any time to stare into your gene pool.

Angry bargaining between spouses can get ugly and lead to divorce - or worse - therapy, so tread carefully here. It usually sounds something like this:

You: "Why do you get to buy deodorant while I still have to use coffee grounds for eyeshadow?!"

Him: "Get off my back! I'm late to work. Hey, what do you do all day, anyway? I noticed Little Miss High Maintenance here quit reusing the toilet paper!!"

You: "I wouldn't be behind on the laundry if you would just turn your underwear inside out like I asked!! And if you don't quit putting the empty container of powdered milk back in the fridge, I swear I'm outta here!"

When you're in the midst of angry bargaining with your spouse, never, ever, ever forget that true love trumps material possessions. Give each other a hug and sleep on it. Remember also that if he kicks the bucket first, you get all of his retirement plus Social Security.

Step 4. Depression, Reflection and Loneliness.

It's difficult not to be sad when you see other people enjoying the good life. I'd like to tell you that you'll work through the depression, but chances are you'll try to sell it on Ebay like every other broke shmuck. On the bright side, by now your rich friends have stopped coming by with donations and tranquilizers, so you'll have plenty of time to ponder your situation.
Pat yourself on the back. People pay thousands of dollars to get away from it all, but it's all gotten away from you for free. That's something.

Step 5. The Upward Turn.

Things will start looking up. I promise. Every storm cloud has a silver lining. You'll need that ambient light when the power company turns off your electricity. In a month or two, when the phone is disconnected, you'll stop getting calls from your mother asking when you're going to refill her prescriptions. You'll go down a few dress sizes while on a frugal diet of ice cubes and sugar packets.

When you stop to think about it, things aren't so bad. You'll start meeting other indigent people and get together on Mondays to enjoy diluted ovaltine and share tips on extending the life of scotch tape. You'll bond with your mailman while receiving past due bills. You can mark going to the bank permanently off of your to-do list. The key here is to continue to focus on all the things you've gained, and stop sending letters to the peacoat.

Step 6. Reconstruction and Working Through.

Rejoice! Rome wasn't built in a day and your credit score won't be either. At this point it's time to scrape the spiderwebs off your calculator and attack your budget with renewed zeal. You can see a light at the end of the tunnel. You're starting to enjoy shrugging off mundane tasks like swiping debit cards and cashing checks. You are on the precipice of becoming chic. In a few years your wardrobe will be considered vintage and therefore en vogue. People all around you are feeling the pinch and flock to you like some High Priest of the Penniless. Enjoy the attention - charge for it. You're rebuilding your portfolio, after all.

Step 7. Acceptance and Hope.

Acceptance means being unabashedly proud of the state of your finances. You'll know you've reached the pinnacle of recession recovery when you offer to show your girlfriends the underwear you bought at the yard sale down the street.

There's no shame here, only hope.

Hope that even though you don't play the lottery, you'll still win it!
Hope that a fabulous job opportunity will fall in your lap!
Hope that writing an obscure humor blog will rocket you into worldwide syndication!
Offer that fruitless hope to others that are still on Step One. Only by extending a hand to our friends can we prove that we have gained something valuable from this experience. Besides, newborn broke people need to start taking hand-outs anyhow. It's better coming from you.


(c) 2009, Kelsey Robbins