Written By: Cindi Gardner
August 2 was the day I became Chicken Little. Midway through the day, an email came in from my manager:
URGENT - Secondary market collapsing! Alt-A, Jumbo, Option ARM - going away...blahblahblah!
Seconds later, I was a werewolf morphing in the rising moonlight - only for me it was yellow feathers, a pointy beak and beady black FRIGHTENED EYES! And, I stayed that way all thru the next day and through the weekend...Chicken Little waiting for the entire mortgage sky to fall in.
My state of mind spilled out of me at client meetings and talking to prospects at open houses. I felt so out of control. It took my breath away. My voice came out in a high pitchy squeal. My contacts dried out from my eyelids being constantly opened far past their normal wrinkle lock.
What I really felt like is someone who lived in London during the bombing in World War II and my entire neighborhood is gone, just shells of buildings left - but I get up and go to the non-existent store, take my kids to the bombed out non-existent school, etc., walking around in a world that no longer exists.
I read and watched the media for anything out there that correlated to the hundred emails I received from lenders, which reinforced my fears! I broke down over the phone to my coach - waiting for him to confirm the end of the world. He didn't. Everywhere, voices were whispering this is history...I felt like a chicken in a cage with no future but the proverbial chopping block (if you know what I mean).
It was a dark and stormy night in my mortgage career.
And then it was over - just like that.
Or just like this:
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