never married, over forty, a little bitter

nutty professors

A long time ago on this blog I wrote about the fact that too many women who expound upon the joys of working are either freelance writers or university professors, with the latter possibly holding the last desirable job around.

A friend of mine is married to a professor and, having just had a baby, is now agreeing with me about this. Her husband stays home with the baby several days a week and has lengthy breaks from work. She, who works at one of the most liberal institutions in the country, has thus far not been allowed to work from home one day a week, and she must schlep to another building, quite a distance away, to pump breast milk.

It infuriates me when people in the media (mostly old men and some wealthy wives) promote motherhood without addressing these issues (not blaming the profs for that one, as they at least might recognize them).

In other news, a co-worker of mine, a couple of rungs above me, confessed to me recently that her job is continually stressful and she developed an autoimmune disorder herself a few years ago.

With all this plus my health insurance problems, I do have to laugh that we still think of ourselves as the “land of the free.” I’ve never felt less free in my life.


It’s been a weepy morning. I’m pretty sure Cobra won’t cover me in another state and no health insurance company will insure me due to a pre-existing condition (which was likely brought on by the stress of my job). I was given the hard sell– multiple phone calls– about limited health insurance plans, but financially, it seems like it would be far less expensive to go without health insurance altogether. But then, unless I get insurance from a job, I may not be able to qualify again due to lapse in coverage.

It’s maddening. I’ve been crying for a few hours straight.