holidays; dinner parties and the odd affair. And she can't get off the bloody treadmill,
because she does not know she is on it.
"You could argue that she is a victim of her times", booms out the priest/zealot/writer from his moralising pulpit
"Yea...I say unto you brethren there are times where human relationships have fallen prey to the corrosive logic of neoliberalism." (I know priests don't talk like this let us allow our writer/zealot friend go on)
A liberalised emotional economy where most of her friends are divorced, or living apart, she lives in a societyy that is marked by ‘the breakdown of the traditional couple’.
Of course when asked she is passionate that she wants to do the best for her 2.3 children, as long as it doesn't take up 'all of my life', I mean what about me, yeah me, what about my life?" Indeed.
In such a world, the receipt of love is no more guaranteed than a salary. Flexibility rather than loyalty is the order of the day, and even those who win comfortable and prestigious positions as love objects must worry constantly about dismissal without notice should their market value drop or their partner decide to trade up.
A drawn-out old age of emotional and sexual penury threatens all those who – inevitably, unforgivably – lose their youth and beauty. with this rathe gloomy view, physically attractive and wealthy people like my friend are only human
trinkets who as they age are on the way to being sidelined onto the marginalised conveyor belt.
How bleak is all that?
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