I’m reading that millions of Americans out of work today are not going to have jobs for a billion years. And, while I’m sad to read that and hear that, I’m glad to have a job – even though I hate my job.

What am I supposed to do?  I mean, my checks clear every two weeks and I pay my bills – I’m not saving anything but I’m getting by.  And, friends of mine talk about pay cuts and I just got a minimal raise.  I don’t feel guilty, but I’m not out there popping champagne.

Economists fear that the recovery will leave more people behind than in past recessions, failing to create jobs in sufficient numbers to absorb the record-setting ranks of the long-term unemployed.  They call them the new poor: people long accustomed to the comforts of middle-class life who are now relying on public assistance for the first time in their lives — potentially for years to come.

Oh my God!

What does that mean?

I read statistics about men versus women, single or married, with or without children – I’m single, gay, no children, in debt, with a car that barely runs, clothes that are ten years old in fashion, computers that are 1.0, and aging parents who look to me to help them die gracefully.  I gotta tell you, I’m scared.

The brilliant economists are telling us that it’s going to take longer to get through this than other recessions – but my parents are at the age where they aren’t buying green bananas.

My parents need me to make it happen for them.  What do I tell them?