Career Women

You know the type.  50 years old, skinny, manicured, single, particular, outspoken...bitches.  Their careers are definitely successful.  They're usually VPs or CEOs of something.  Usually have a wonderful house or apartment in the poshest of neighborhoods.  They do not have animals that can't be left home alone for at least a week at a time because they travel so much (that is, unless the maid can feed the cat).  In my experience, a lot of these women are very nice and personable when you first meet them.  Sure, they're demanding, but they're used to getting their way, so we must recede and treat them in that way, for only God knows what would happen if someone stood up to them.  These women probably knew their career path at 12, and lets face it, have all the right connections, because without connections there's not much upward mobility possible.  They have everything.  And of course Hollywood has shown us in multiple movies (Kate & Leopold, The Devil Wears Prada, etc), they have everything but love.  Aw.  

I recently spent some time working with a woman like this.  When not talking about work, conversation went to her vacations on a yacht in Europe or returning home to her apartment in Soho.  She was perfectly nice.  She didn't listen to a word anyone else said, but she was smiling while interrupting.  She flirted with every man in the room.  She wore revealing clothing (if you could call revealing ribs and crocodile skin revealing).  I didn't hate her, but was relieved when her high stress form whisped out of the room.  

I am the opposite of this woman in many ways.  I could tell you a few jobs I know I would find happiness and fulfillment in.  I couldn't tell you how I intend to get those jobs.  I don't have a plan, a career or even (sometimes, gasp!) goals.  I'm not able to push everything to the side (even my happiness) for a job.  Does the fact that I run around the job world like a chicken with my head cut off and have no idea how to market myself make me less of a person?  No.  I just know that success will never come to me in this form.  It won't come from me farting around with art privately and not pursuing anything either.  So.  Crossroads?  Are the only two choices bitch or pauper?