Citigroup is failing. They're having a meeting today to talk about everything, all the senior executives, and my family fears for the worst. If they sell everything, my father will lose his job and we'll be left with nothing. I used to sit on my carpet and read American Girl books about Kit, the girl from the Depression. I frowned at her discovery of her father on the bread line, at her realisation that he was no longer employed. I thanked God I was better off than that. Why do you always think these things can't happen to you? Wake up. They can. I can't even imagine what we're going to do. He crawls out of bed when his alarm rings for the fifth time and he holds me when I pass him in the hallway, just to hold me. In a year, I'm off to college - where? Where can we afford after the dust has settled? Fordham has become a very real possibility, and although I can't say I don't love the idea of going to school in New York City, it's a little disappointing. But this isn't about me, for once. This is about everyone else.