You have no idea.
If you're spooked by the firecrackers called the housing credit bust, wait until you hear the hydrogen bomb called derivatives detonate. They'll have to import cheap labor from Mars and Pluto to make up for that revenue shortfall. There isn't enough money on the planet to cover those losses. They'll be paying for bread with wheelbarrels of million dollar bills in New York before the end of the year if this bubble pops.
Try to imagine a guy who lives on top of a pyramid of hundreds of thousands of wine glasses carefully stacked up about six stories high. He sits on a plywood board laid delicately on the summit. He just sneezed and the distinct sound of glasses cracking at the base can be heard.
I'm sure this advice is redundant for most of the people who visit this blog, but read Cormac McCarthy's THE ROAD if you want to know what to expect. That's the feelgood hit of the summer upbeat optimistic scenario.