The feminists set me up
Last week, on three different occasions, women of various socioeconomic backgrounds made reference to me to the fact that our trailblazing sisters of the 60’s have made us current-day women doubt how much actual progress we’ve made. I immediately started thinking about my mother’s ‘kept woman’ reference (see 9/23/03 post). Since I’ve had a career and I know what I enjoy, is it OK to bail on the workforce now and find a man who can support my habits?
Would that be selling out?
I spent $7,000 on a graduate degree that would have been better spent paying off a credit card. Why did I get the degree? So I could distinguish myself in the piles of resumes during the recession of the early 90’s. Since that time, I’ve been working long hours to try to distinguish myself from the men. In my last position at a Fortune 25 boys club, I think only a sex change would have helped me get promoted.
In these three months of unemployment, you know what I’ve realized? I’m tired. If I work at all, I want to work in a happy place with normal hours and normal people. But you know what? If I NEVER worked again, that would OK as well. This kept woman idea my mother had might be a clever little plan. I resisted in my early 20’s because I felt like I had to develop my professional identity (and get an ROI on my degree). Now that I know I am a marketing communications professional that would sooner never work again, let’s figure out this EVIL PLAN B.
If I were going to create my own Ozzie and Harriet bra-wearing utopia, what kind of man would I need and what could I provide in exchange? I need a full-size kitchen with a behemoth SubZero refrigerator and a Viking six burner stove with bun warmer. Here I would create gourmet meals for my Ozzie in addition to baking for block parties and hosting random neighborhood social events. My Ozzie would also need to provide me with an open line of credit at Home Depot so I could actually DO the tasks they teach you at those weekend How-To clinics. I would do everything from grout to crown moldings. On weekends, I’d teach Ozzie how to use all the power tools I bought. Let’s see, what else… Oh, I would probably need a car, but it can be a beater… like maybe a ’72 Scout w/the top chopped off. Something that hauls and says fuck you to the current day SUV owners. I might need a little allowance too…just enough to have a few beers with the girls on book club night.
What does Ozzie get in exchange for funding my lifestyle? Well, he gets fed and he gets a well-maintained house. And, instead of 2.2 kids, he’ll get to have sex 2.2 times a day.
That seems fair, right?