According to this new book, Smart Girls Marry Money, anyway. And my career woes would be over.
Assuming the summary is accurate, the book is not asking why lady bartenders or lady web developers are “still slaving after forty” — maybe the assumption is that our prospects for marrying millionaires were always rather dim. Instead, the authors are baffled about why “lady lawyers, doctors, and MBAs” are still nose to the grindstone after that magic age, after which your life is functionally over and no man will ever desire you again.
Which, maybe I missed something, but I kind of thought that lawyers and doctors of both sexes pretty much worked until retirement. Doctoring and lawyering aren’t just jobs, they are vocations, and they require a heckuva lot of school before you can even get started. So if there was some assumption that the lady kind of doctor and lawyer were supposed to have a goal of retiring at forty, I really was not aware of that.
I don’t know about MBAs. I have never known what MBAs are for.
The book is apparently a cheeky, in-your-face how-to about successful gold digging. Not to knock gold digging, if that is your chosen profession, but I suspect it’s harder than it looks. For one thing, you have to be really beautiful, have a perfect body, and be an outgoing people person who finds it easy to make friends.
For another thing, you have to locate a millionaire. They are not actually all that common, in my experience. Then you have to arrange to meet him. Then you have to convince him that you’re not hoping to marry him for his money (which, having a copy of this book around seems like a dead giveaway, so burn after reading). Then you have to actually marry him.
Only he will probably make you sign a bunch of prenuptial agreements that will prevent you from divorcing him lucratively a few years later, so you are either in the position of actually having to stay married to this guy for years and years, or you have to knock him off in some clever way that looks like an accident. Which you have to do pretty soon, because otherwise he’ll eventually dump you for a younger, hotter gold digger.
Oh, well. Too late for me. I have already squandered my years of peak hotness marrying for love, and now I will have to “work until I drop dead.”