So I’ve decided I’m going to manage a hedge fund.
I don’t know exactly what that means – neither does anybody else, apparently – but I have just learned you can earn up to $1,057,692 an hour doing it. I don’t want to do the actual math, but let’s just say that it’s a tidy sum more than my current hourly rate. Hedge fund managers even get a special tax break, which feels morally wrong to me, but who am I to question how the government taxes its citizens?
This plan has no flaw, as far as I can see. You don’t really need to have any skills to do this job other than an ability to tweak the truth, so I’ll just add an extra letter to my diploma and voilà! I now have an MBA. Let me pencil in the word Finance and I should be ready to give Gordon Gekko a run for his money…
Never mind that I will be detracting precious billions away from the economy just as it desperately needs a cash infusion; I need to finance a Lamborghini I saw at the Grand Prix this weekend that makes a cappuccino for you when you turn on your left blinker. In my opinion, this is a more sound investment than any one of those several-hundred thousand teachers who lost jobs during the recession. I mean, I don’t really like flashy cars, but how else am I going to drive to work and get my morning coffee?
Also, seeing as I am an ordinary middle-class American citizen who graduated from college in the middle of the Great Recession, I am saddled with enough debt to finance any number of small government programs, so I should really take care of that before I start saving for retirement. I’m thinking I’ll be able to retire at 43? By that time, I will have made enough money to purchase that summer home in Monte Carlo and still have enough in the change drawer to keep me in fresh designer duds for the rest of my life.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; I can’t possibly be a hedge fund manager, because I am not a pedigreed white male of wealthy extraction. No! This stereotype is false! This is AMERICA, where everybody has the same opportunities. That is what my government-funded public education taught me, and that is what all of my favorite politicians reinforce daily in Washington. You know, just because the top ten wealthiest hedge fund managers happen to be WASP men doesn’t mean I couldn’t squeeze my way in if I showed a little leg and winked at the right men in charge. Or I could pull a Twelfth Night and just raid my husband’s closet, dispensing with the need for unwanted sexual advances in the workplace…
I’ll keep you posted on this new career plan. If I stop writing, you can attribute it to disgusting wealth and an inability to live with myself.
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