Thursday, September 26, 2013

Being valued

I had a thought the other day which went something along the lines of

Somewhere out there there is somebody who would want to marry me. They would take this 47 year old kit, as is, and make it theirs.
The problem being, how high might the price be? It might have to be a very old and unattractive man, they might beat me, use me, spend my money, or worst of all not value me for who I am.

I was running this idea past Seamus the other night, he was following along. After all he thinks I have nice tits and no doubt there would be some dude who would want to have their way with me... But when I got to the value part, I received the blankest of blank stares.

Photo credit Andrew Malone wikimedia commons

Well, I go to work every day, I work hard, I make a good wage, I am highly qualified, I have my own home, somehow I manage to keep it clean and to cook and look after my child all alone, I'm a kind and generous person. I'm not big noting myself, but these things don't grow on trees.

Then something happened at work:

I am lucky enough to have long service leave approved for three months next year. But after this had happened Capow! the only other person who could do my job is pregnant, and my employer is high and dry. I am very hard to replace.

In the marriage/dating market I am apparently ten-a-penny but at work it is hard to replace me. This is one of the most alluring things about being a working woman. I am valued. Sigh. Even if it is some sort of imputed value derived from the cost and difficulty of replacing me.

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