Thursday, October 27, 2005

The Prophet of Doom stepped out of the shower and said, "You know...when the first person gets bird flu from another person...or if the world even thinks that happened...the stock market will be...very unhappy."

"What, I'm supposed to do therapy with the stock market now?" I replied, scrunching deeper under the covers.

"No," said the Prophet of Doom, drying himself off. "But you should be thinking about it. Smart people have already thought about it...the government could stop airline flights coming into this country. Global businesses would be...very unhappy. There could be panic...hysteria..."Madness of Crowds"...do you want some coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great," said I. "We're not going to panic about bird flu, remember?"

"Oh, we won't panic...we're talking about other people panicking......and you won't want to live in a glass house when it happens, because mobs with torches will be breaking them, and roaming the streets...where's the cream?"

"We ran out. We don't know what's going to happen! How can we know?"

"Yes, I'm reading tea leaves, that's all...it's just little tea leaves..."

"Psychiatric medications have not been approved for treatment of stock markets!"

Addendum to disclaimer: The preceding is excerpted from this morning's conversation with my Prophet of Doom, who is not and never has been a financial advisor. No investment advice is given on this blog!

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

And, wait... you are a psychiatrist?

1:27 PM  
Blogger shrinkette said...

Anonymous: Yes, and this morning my husband was the Prophet of Doom. (We will both feel unspeakably terrible if any of this comes to pass...)

5:33 PM  

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