Yup I’m feeling vulnerable. I am vulnerable. I am scared. So I’m not sure I want to write this blog. But here I am. T-y-p-i-n-g. Because I don’t know what else to do. And writing makes me happy.

I will begin by counting my blessings. I have my health. I have a full head of hair. I have full voluptuous thighs with which I run 4-6 miles a week. I have clean water to drink. I do not live in a war zone. I have many friends who love me. I have a wonderful wonderful wonderful vivacious extended family in this universe. I have a 3.5 year old son who is my each and every breath and he is a tornado of emotion, chaotic and delightful and unexpected and on a cellular inexplicable level I do not exist without him. I have named him Kamran, which means someone who is fortunate, successful and happy. I pray that he will be all of those things. I have many more blessings.

At the moment though I am terrified. I go back to the spring of 2006. The facts. Husband and I purchased a condo in Southern California at the top of the market. I wish to the Almighty that we had been greedy and not put a penny down. Instead we plowed our savings from the sale of another condo – all $125,000 – into this new condo… It does have a lovely view of the valley so that makes it worth it. Well not at all.  Our savings are in this condo. Our loan amount at the time $424,000. It is now $412,000. I think you see where this is going. Stupidly we signed on to an interest-only 5-year loan thinking we’d move to a bigger home… so we didn’t need a 30-year mortgage.

Now the term is ending and the value of the condo has fallen off a cliff (as so many properties here have lost their value) is around $330,000. We can’t sell. Citibank won’t renegotiate with us. They actually told me to stop making payments for several months and then they’d assign us a loan officer. Yes I’ll get right on that. Because that’s the kind of dishonest person I am. I’ve been hearing stories of people who’ve fallen behind on payments (or negotiated reduced payments), who have applied for hardship assistance (the Obama government did give the banks AN AWFUL LOT OF OUR TAX DOLLARS), only to discover that Citibank sold their mortgage to another company. The poor family discovers this the day they come home and there’s an eviction notice on the front door. 

I can’t fall behind on payments. Now, if only, if only we hadn’t put our savings into this place… This is my nightmare. We are dancing around in the desert – it’s not Burning Man although it feels like it (the music isn’t as good) while pouring kerosene on a pile of cash. Someone carelessly tosses a match. Naah, someone uses one of those fancy lighters decorated with mother of pearl or painted with a dancing girl or a beer logo. Anything that represents consumerism in its best form.

If we had only put 3-6% down and kept our cash we could just buy something else now. A real house. Then we’d rent this place out.  But we can’t. We have no savings. We’re stuck. We’ve outgrown this place. I know I’m repeating myself. Let me pause for a moment to weep.

Waahh waah wah. Oh I’ve left out an important detail. My husband works for a Fortune 500 company. It recently shut down its local office to save on overhead costs. Now he works from home and goes on 5 a.m. conference calls with colleagues from Europe, Hong Kong, New York and wherever. He’s on the phone until 8 p.m. This is when he’s not travelling.  He works on business deals out of our bedroom where he has set up an office. Files etc are here. I am blessed that he has a job with good benefits. I really am.

I also work from home. We see each other a lot. We pass each other in the hallway. Yak at the water cooler. Um there’s no water cooler. Just our 8 foot x 8 foot cube kitchen. His Fortune 500 company has stopped reimbursing us for the phone calls he makes. We also absorb other office costs such as stationary, the printer, Internet etc. We don't eat out much. We've stopped entertaining. We didn't buy toys like crazy cars or speedboats or a home in the desert or go on expensive vacations around the world. We're not gamblers. I don't wear designer clothes. Thank God laughter is free. 

I read that Citigroup brought in $10.6 billion in net income in 2010. (Citi received $45-billion in bailout dollars from the federal government.) Earlier this month it gave $50-million in stock to 15 top executives. That’s what they do apparently during “bonus” season. Grrrrr. Other investment co's are doing, uh, well too.  JP Morgan profits surged 47% in the fourth quarter at $4.8 billion.

So, Wall Street is reporting record profits and CEOs will bathe in cash. Congratulations you Thieves in Pinstripes. Why aren’t we - general public - down on Wall St. protesting with pitchforks? ’Kay we’re not naïve villagers, let’s throw a tomato or two. OK, let’s not waste food but let’s do something. Start hoarding gold and carrot seeds. 

I say this, I write this but I can scarcely breathe. We are part of the nillionaire class. From the outside we look like we’re living the high life. But our bank balance reads nil. Zero.

I worry about what will happen in April. Where will interest rates be? Our mortgage could go up to $2800/month. Add in the association dues plus property taxes and insurance and everything else and we’re sunk. We’re sunk. What are we going to do? What can we do? What should we do? I have so many migraines that I eat Relpax like M&Ms. Nom nom num chomp chomp crunch munch. Tisn't really helping.

I really didn’t want to write this. In black and white I realize how far into the red we are. I really didn’t want to write this.