Rescue me

Do men ever feel like they just want someone to rescue them ? I wonder.
I know when I get totally stressed, or my finances and/or client list looks bleak, I find myself dreaming of having someone ride up in a white Ferrari and rescue me. What would a rescue consist of ? I wouldn't ask for much..... money would be nice, and a fabulous vacation would be really nice. Then perhaps a life in a beautiful farmhouse with lots of land, very few animals to take care of, and lots of room and funding to throw beautiful parties for all of our friends.
I just wonder if men hope for a rich, beautiful woman to dash in to their lives and rescue them from their daily existence and worries. You never hear of the princess riding up on the white horse to rescue the handsome prince.

My thoughts lately have been on how I want to spend the second half of my life.
I do have some friends ( and family ) who are still suggesting that I find someone wealthy who will take care of me -- okay, where is the store where you go to pick up wealthy men ? I am sure it's not as easy as they think it is, or every bimbo would be shopping there.
I would rather have everything I ever wanted because I earned it, but have I set my life up for that ? When I was a magazine editor I loved my life. I loved being on deadline. I loved interviewing people and writing articles. I loved having a staff and always having something to accomplish. It was a terrific job, but the long hours spent at the office when the deadlines hit were not suited to raising young children. So, the decision was made that I would work in sales in a smaller company and set my own hours, so that I could be with the kids. This worked beautifully because I was able to have a job and go to all the kid stuff, and it worked when Todd was sick as well because I could make it to most of his doctor's appointments...... but now there is no one needing me. There i s just me, sitting at the kitchen table with my telephone and my computer, talking to clients and trying to convince them to buy printing. I don't think it is enough to mentally sustain me for the next 25 years. Not to mention the lovely invention called Kindle, which is killing the book printing industry !
What do I do with this new found self knowledge ? How do I embark on a new career when I am nearly fifty years old, and when the job market is the worst it has been since the depression?
Is it like sales where it is a numbers game, and every day I when I am done sending out the bulk mailing fishing for perspective customers, I should send out ten resumes as well ?

The deal was that I would put my magazine career on hold, work in a setting that was better for raising a family, and now, with only two more years of college to pay for, my husband and I would be planning vacations, going out to dinner, and enjoying our lives together as empty nesters. Instead I am here alone, not knowing what tomorrow will bring, but knowing that I will have to work for at least another twenty years before I retire. It is a very rude awakening. This princess is going to have to open her eyes and figure out a way to rescue herself.