I’m never coming back to that recession turmoil again!
I fell to pieces sometime during the dark hours of April 2nd. I woke in a cold sweat, screaming that the stock exchange was falling, falling, falling and I couldn’t stop it. The reels on the NYSE boards were out of control and spinning, the numbers lower and lower as I watched. I knew it was time to run away, to leave, to get away from the madness. This is no longer my world, the one I grew up in and loved so much until the first prime mortgage article appeared on the front page.
I applied for an XXL Personal Loan from the Personal Money Store. With the proceeds I bought a one-way ticket to Sydney, Australia.
I packed my beloved gold Cross pen, my crossword dictionary, my little box of watercolors and headed for the airport. On the plane I had the best 8-hour sleep in months.
Welcome to Turtle Island
This morning I am lying on an old deck chair on the beach of Turtle Island. In the distance behind me you can see the mansion, helipad and swimming pool. I haggled the price down from 6 million to 3 million and got the title deeds in my hands without putting down one penny. Aha, here comes Jenny treading carefully across the sand. She is carrying a tray with two glasses of a delicious looking pink drink with frosting around the rim of the glass and little purple umbrellas shading the drink.
She hands me a glass and sits down on the sand at my feet. Jenny came with the island – “meet Jenny, she will be your April Assistant,” said the agent. “You should see what we have lined up for May!” I am still finding out about Jenny’s many talents, but she mixes incredible drinks.
Oh, is there a recession on somewhere?
The agent dropped by yesterday evening to find out how I was getting on, and to remind me about the 3 million (and his commission). He said something about a recession over there on the mainland and the truth is that after a month here I have forgotten all about it. It is not part of my present life and I have no intention of going anywhere near it. I have more important things to worry about.
The island delivery service
Yesterday’s helicopter mail-drop failed to arrive and that means that I missed the Wednesday NY Times crossword which in turn means that the whole week’s crossword program is shot. Everyone knows that the NY Times crossword runs in one week cycles.
I am still waiting for a tube of Bumblebee Yellow that Cheap Joes art store promised to deliver. Without it I can’t move along with my watercolor of the yellow canvas deckchair with palm tree on the beach with the sea in the background.
Article writing
I feel that I need to do something to keep my head occupied and exercised in this environment. In the old country I used to sharpen my wits on things like the stock exchange and the money market. Here it’s all beach, sunshine, Jenny and her drinks. I thought that writing articles would keep me on my toes. First on my ‘to do’ list is to get my trained mouse to quit copying and pasting. “You will only get me into trouble,” I told him.







I know that every time more bad news comes out on the recession, I get an urge to head to Margaritaville. I think we all know, it’s the economy’s fault.