How nervous are investors? On a scale from “calm index fund” to “squirrel on espresso,” we’re three espressos past the squirrel and borrowing against acorns. The S&P now stands for Sighs and Panic, with an occasional pfft.

The stock market currently resembles a raccoon in a pinstripe suit juggling chainsaws labeled Rates, Earnings, and That Thing We Forgot to Hedge. We’re clapping to keep it from remembering gravity, which, unlike guidance, is not forward-looking.

The fear gauge formerly known as VIX has taken up opera and only sings in a terrified soprano. Analysts have replaced bar charts with EKGs, while the opening bell triggers a firm-wide Fitbit tornado warning.

Surveys say 74% of investors are “nervous,” 24% are “nervous about being nervous,” and the remaining 2% are the guy who buys during hurricanes because his horoscope says “tides.” The meter is at “sweaty palms with a side of macro.”

Demand for therapy-grade desktop fidget pendulum spiked so hard the pendulums asked for hazard pay. HR approved it, mainly because HR is also the wind that keeps them swinging.

Boomers say, “I survived ‘87,” while Gen Z says, “I survived onboarding to my broker app.” One consults bond ladders; the other consults a moon chart; both are terrified of decimals that move left.

Meanwhile, earnings calls have switched to interpretive dance in recognition of Adjusted EBITDAAAAH. CFOs report “a beat,” analysts report “a vibe,” and guidance arrives wrapped in a riddle inside a shrug.

Retirees calmly recalculate income with panic-proof dividend calculator, which prints “maybe” in three elegant fonts and a fourth font that screams. The yield is fine; the blood pressure is premium.

Fed watchers are parsing Jerome’s commas like Da Vinci Code interns with a latte problem. One algo bought, another sold, and physics called Legal to report a paradox on line two.

Corporate guidance now reads like a breakup text: “It’s not you, it’s macro, but also it’s you if rates persist.” Management promises “optionality,” which is Latin for “we’ve purchased time and a thesaurus.”

Tech insists AI will model risk with empathy while value stocks smell faintly of oatmeal and municipal meetings. There’s a new ETF that only buys companies that apologize to your feelings and return your calls.

As a reporter who translates earnings calls into sentences and waits out miracles with a raised eyebrow, I checked the footnotes and found a small drawing of a parachute labeled “hope.” So how nervous are investors? Nervous enough to buckle the raccoon into the candlestick seatbelt—and then realize the seatbelt is our last nerve.