In high school...
I think there was a day in high school when everyone got a lecture on how-- if you want to be a financial success as a grownup-- you can do one of several things:
Law school, med school, or business school.
I missed that day.
And lately it has jumped into clarity for me. That my choices-- most of them great-- have led me into an interesting life, but not a secure financial future. Funny how a couple of rugrats brings that realization home. Makes me think about law school.
I have been fixating, focues, freaking out... about what might happen if my husband got hit by a bus, or a very sexy secretary. I have been very much aware of what it means to be a woman who is dependent on a man. I have been thinking about the 1950s.
Of course, I know I'm "contributing." I'm cooking a baby. I'm raising another. I'm writing. I'm doing dishes and laundry and making the goddamn sloppy joes. But that doesn't what I'd be facing if something awful happened.
I'm writing about this now because I finally shook OFF the freakout. I'm NOT freaking out anymore. I'm feeling fine. I ranted to a few (poor souls) friends about my worries, and they flew away (the worries, not the friends). I also had a talk with hubby about life insurance. I also remembered that in a terrible situation, I could move home, wait tables, and get certified to teach. I'd be okay.
But I still wanted to mention this, now that I can do it calmly. Without heading further into the dark hole of fear. Because it's a real thing. People DO get hit by buses. People DO avoid thinking about the future. Women DO find themselves living with their kids in shelters. Women who HAD nice lives. But didn't think.
Credit card debt. Interest-only loans. Leased cars. Dinner out every night. No savings. Whole Foods Groceries. You can royally screw yourself.
I'm still glad I missed the lecture in high school. Still glad I'm a writer and a frugal momma with a lot of amazing experiences under my belt and a flare for the interesting (and less lucrative side of life). But yikes!
Law school, med school, or business school.
I missed that day.
And lately it has jumped into clarity for me. That my choices-- most of them great-- have led me into an interesting life, but not a secure financial future. Funny how a couple of rugrats brings that realization home. Makes me think about law school.
I have been fixating, focues, freaking out... about what might happen if my husband got hit by a bus, or a very sexy secretary. I have been very much aware of what it means to be a woman who is dependent on a man. I have been thinking about the 1950s.
Of course, I know I'm "contributing." I'm cooking a baby. I'm raising another. I'm writing. I'm doing dishes and laundry and making the goddamn sloppy joes. But that doesn't what I'd be facing if something awful happened.
I'm writing about this now because I finally shook OFF the freakout. I'm NOT freaking out anymore. I'm feeling fine. I ranted to a few (poor souls) friends about my worries, and they flew away (the worries, not the friends). I also had a talk with hubby about life insurance. I also remembered that in a terrible situation, I could move home, wait tables, and get certified to teach. I'd be okay.
But I still wanted to mention this, now that I can do it calmly. Without heading further into the dark hole of fear. Because it's a real thing. People DO get hit by buses. People DO avoid thinking about the future. Women DO find themselves living with their kids in shelters. Women who HAD nice lives. But didn't think.
Credit card debt. Interest-only loans. Leased cars. Dinner out every night. No savings. Whole Foods Groceries. You can royally screw yourself.
I'm still glad I missed the lecture in high school. Still glad I'm a writer and a frugal momma with a lot of amazing experiences under my belt and a flare for the interesting (and less lucrative side of life). But yikes!
10 Comments:
You forgot "be a whore."
If things go bad, you could also be, like, a whore. And stuff.
Laurel: 1. Life insurance is a good call. 2. You're not only contributing to your marriage and your family, you're contributing to the world at large.
Also, to "johnskyn kantilever": WTF is wrong with you?
I love you, friend. Thank you for writing.
Also to "antoine wilson": My apologies. Clearly, your dick just magically sucks itself, and so my suggestion must have seemed incoherent, venal, and base.
lordy, lookit the boyz gittin all into it over chivalry n shit.
dood, you's one smart cookie. a single lady friend and I were talking some months back about a different (tho very tangentially related) dilemma-- the aging single woman's (hush hush) anxiety of "dying alone and being eaten by dogs" (cf. Bridget Jones). and how unrealistic such catastrophic envisionings are in most cases specifically because women build strong networks of friends. so I ask you, always, to think on that one. if only for my sake. :-)
also I'm thrilled you found your way out of the dark place. I'm sure mosey's thrilled, too. a smiley mama's surely a joy. xoxox.
Women DO find themselves living with their kids in shelters. Women who HAD nice lives. But didn't think.
Women find themselves living with their kids in shelters for other reasons, too. And I'm fairly certain that it's extremely rare that women and their children find themselves living in shelters because "they didn't think."
Domestic abuse, for example, is one of the BIG reasons women find themselves living with their kids in shelters. At the beginning, they think they're marrying the nicest men in the world because abusers tend to portray themselves that way to the outside world.
Dear Renata,
I fear you misunderstand me in this post. Of course that's true, absolutely. I don't mean to overlook that, but that isn't what this post is about.
My point is only that some women, women in much more fortunate circumstances, also find themselves living in shelters (or back with family members, or crammed into tiny apartments). And for those women, there is the chance that if they had discussed things with their partners, planned for the future, they might NOT end up in such places.
My point, Renata, is that I'm a priveleged person, with education and support, and it's better to preapare for possible disasters than to worry about them.
My point is that there are women out there who feel that becaise they are priveleged, they are protected from poverty. But that when you have kids, not thinking about such things is a luxury.
Cautionary tale: I took that class in high school. About two years after college graduation, my brother was well into his med school track, and I twiddled around a few low-paying, but interesting jobs. Finally I said, "Screw it all, I'm going to Law School!" And I did. For six months. At the six month point, I looked back at law school and this is what I saw:
a) The worst grades of my life
b) A "B" on a pure writing paper that would have attracted an A in any other context because it was indeed well-written.
c) Me, getting poor grades but distracting myself by penning a column in the law school newspaper AND serving as President of the Jewish Law Students Association. These were not signs of ambition; they were signs of desperate distraction
d) Myself, miserable.
So, I did a hard and courageous thing. I quit law school. I then put myself back on a trajectory of happiness and fulfillment as a creative person who loves writing and public speaking. I haven't regretted it since. I haven't even regretted those six months of law school, because sometimes the only way to recognize the right road is to travel the wrong one.
Boiled-down advice: Go to law school only if you like law. Sounds like truism, but far from it.
Joel
joelscorp@gmail.com
www.jesttokill.com
Having been a momma without a man around, I can speak to the fact that those of us who missed that lecture or heard it and didn't bother with it, can make it with grace if not always ease. Now having someone to help pay rent and buy groceries seems like the most luxurious life imaginable even though we both missed that lecture.
Yes, the life insurance is a very good idea (for both of you) and yes, somehow even when big, nasty things happen, things can settle back into being some sort of okay. Take care.
Are you saying that being a writer isn't the road to riches? Who knew?
Oh wait, I totally did.
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