Just finished The Nanny Diaries, by Nicola Kraus and Emma McLaughlin, a first-person novel based on their experiences as nannies to rich Manhattanites. It’s a great book, but reading it just makes me sick. It’s a work of fiction, yes, but I know plenty of people exist who are like the ones described in this book: rich, spoiled, self-centered, horrible to their servants and couldn’t-care-less about their children. Once again I give thanks for my own life. And thanks to my parents!
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]
Rich people aren’t as lucky as they seem, yeah?
They should redistribute their wealth and then discover new meaning and fulfillment in their lives by trying to get by on only *gasp* one million a year.
(I’d give them less, but hey, I don’t want to *kill* them. One million a year is like poverty to these people.)