I was walking in a trendy, yuppie (do yuppies still exist? Or did they go the way of MC Hammer? Can't touch this) part of town with a glam puss girlfriend. We had dinner earlier at the new city hotspot where the meals look beautiful but couldn’t fill up one Kate Moss.
My single friend was giving this married woman all the dirt on her crazily interesting life (which put my story on how I fixed the washing machine into perspective). Lets just say that she has it altogether, a great jet setting career, a sweet little loft, a few too many boyfriends (doing crazy things with tongues), killer shoes.
We passed a little ol’ lady (what happens to all the big ol’ ladies?) digging cans out of the garbage. My friend sighed, “That could be me someday.”
My Sex In The City gal pal worried about being a bag lady?
Shocking. More shocking ‘cause she’s not alone.
One in four women, regardless of wealth, worry that they’ll end up a bag lady, homeless, on the street with rags on their backs, cardboard shoes and nothing to eat.
Could it happen?
Sure. Running out of money is a possibility.
But that possibility shrinks with education, a Kate Spade bag full of investments (always helps) but most of all control. Control over your time, your money, your future.
Interestingly enough, men don’t have bag lady (bag boy? bag men? bum?) worries. Or maybe as with asking for directions or feelings or what they’re REALLY thinking, they just don’t talk about it.