There was once a woman I knew from school, by the name of Margaret. Margaret, as I recall, was somewhat of a prima donna in those days. After finishing school, she went on to study law at university. Later, she decided to earn a second degree, this time in business and management. While at university, I met a young man whom I later married myself. This young chap, as it happened, was rather successful, earning a fine salary, and never insisted that Margaret find a job, so she completed her studies without worry.
When Margaret finished her second degree, she didn’t seek out employment, choosing instead to remain at home. If friends asked after her, she would always insist she was perfectly content with her life. Shed say her husband liked a tidy, comfortable home and that, had she been working, she simply wouldnt have managed it. He provided Margaret with whatever she fancied, from visits to the hairdresser to memberships at the local gym.
And so they lived. From time to time, Margaret said her husband would mention how much he hoped for a child, but she always avoided such talks. The truth was, Margaret simply had no desire for children at all; she was far too concerned with her figure, her health, and having time for herself.
Their marriage lasted for about twelve years, and then the two quietly chose to part ways. Margaret never discussed the details, and I never pressed her for them. After the separation, her former husband stopped supporting her, and she was left to rely on her father, who was still working. But what her father could provide was nowhere near enough to maintain the comfortable lifestyle to which Margaret had grown accustomed. Plus, he kept encouraging her to look for a proper jobafter all, she was a grown woman now, thirty-five years of age.
Margaret soon reached out to our old school friends for help finding work. One of them owned a shop in a shopping centre and offered her a position as a clerk, but Margaret dismissed the notion entirelyshe didnt want to “sort out other peoples rubbish,” as she put it, especially with her education.
To be quite frank, I find it rather amusing. She has no experience to speak of, as it’s been such a long time since she graduated, yet her expectations are sky-high. Shes holding out for a managerial role with a handsome salary.
What do you make of all this, I wonder? What sort of job can anyone reasonably expect to find at thirty-five, having never worked a day in their life?
