There comes a time when it’s too late to tell people how you feel.
There will come a day when the person you mean to talk to won’t be there. Don’t wait for that day.
“There’s always tomorrow” isn’t always true.
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
This was a guest post I wrote last year to answer the question posed by the Yakezie blog swap, “Name a time you splurged and were glad you did.”
There are so many things that I’ve wanted to spend my money on, and quite a few that I have. Just this week, we went a little nuts when we found out that the owner of the game store near us was retiring and had his entire stock 40% off. Another time, we splurged long-term and bought smartphones, more than doubling our monthly cell phone bill.
This isn’t about those extravagances. This is about a time I splurged and was glad I did. Sure, I enjoy using my cell phone and I will definitely get a lot of use out of our new games, but they aren’t enough to make me really happy.
The splurge that makes me happiest is the vacation we took last year.
Vacations are clearly a luxury. Nonessential. Unnecessary. A splurge.
When we were just a year into our debt repayment, we realized that, not only is debt burnout a problem, but our kids’ childhoods weren’t conveniently pausing themselves while we cut every possible extra expense to get out of debt. No matter how we begged, they insisted on continuing to grow.
Nothing we will do will ever bring back their childhoods once they grow up or—more importantly—their childhood memories. They’ll only be children for eighteen years. That sounds like a long time, but that time flies by so quickly.
We decided it was necessary to reduce our debt repayment and start saving for family vacations.
Last summer, we spent a week in a city a few hours away. This was a week with no internet access, no playdates, no work, and no chores. We hit a number of museums, which went surprisingly well for our small children. Our kids got to climb high over a waterfall and hike miles through the forest. We spent time every day teaching them to swim and play games. Six months later, my two year old still talks about the scenic train ride and my eleven year old still plays poker with us.
We spent a week together, with no distractions and nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company. And we did. The week cost us several extra months of remaining in debt, but it was worth every cent. Memories like we made can’t be bought or faked and can, in fact, be treasured forever.
I’m sick of working my day job.
I’m sick of working my side hustles.
I’m sick of working.
To make up for all of that, I’m going to launch a new business. My business model is guaranteed to generate $1,000,000 in revenue the first month.
Seriously.
It’s going to be a father/son enterprise, and to prove that the business model scales, I’m going to help him generate another $1,000,000 in revenue the first month.
This plan is infinitely replicable and infinitely scalable. Steal my business plan and you can have a million dollar business, too.
Ready?
First, my son is going to sell his XBox for $100. Yes, he’s taking a loss, but that’s the cost of getting into the business. Oh, and he’s selling it to me.
$100 for him.
Second, I’m going to sell it back to him for $100.
$100 for me.
He sells it to me for $100.
$200 for him.
I sell it to him for $100.
$200 for me.
If we do this just 9,998 more times, we’ll have generated $1,000,000 in revenue. At 1 minute per transaction, I figure we can both be running million dollar business after just 2 weeks of full-time work.
That’s a two-week vacation every single month.
Phenomenal plan.
Some of the haters are going to explode with comments about “profit” and “expenses”, but I don’t care. Cash flow is king. They can sit at home and whine about their $50,000 jobs while I’m making millions. Sure, my profit (the money leftover after expenses are taken from the revenue) is on the low side, but I can make that up in volume.
Millions.
If I do this every month, I’ll be sitting on a $12,000,000 business. I bet I can sell that for 5 times my annual profits.
Any buyers out there?
Any entrepreneurs ready to copy my business model?
Anybody have a better grasp of the difference between cash flow and profit than I do?
At the end of the month, we’re having a massive garage/estate sale. When my mother-in-law died, she left us a lot of stuff.
A lot.
Really, when I say “lot”, I mean it. When most people say they have a lot of stuff, they mean they’ve got a closet to clean out. That’s similar to looking at a “scale of the universe” app and comparing a grain of salt to the Oort cloud. We’ve donated several truckloads of blankets, jackets, and toiletries to a homeless shelter and more than 80 rubbermaid containers full of clothes to the Salvation Army. That’s on top of two dumpsters(big enough to park a truck in) full of garbage of things we didn’t think were worth salvaging. That has still left us with several rooms packed full of stuff.
When I say ” a lot”, I mean it in a visceral, oh-my-god-can-this-be-over-or-should-we-consider-arson kind of way.
Now, it’s time to get rid of the stuff that’s left.
The things that have sentimental value have already come home with us.
The things that look unique, rare, or collectible–like the 1970s Pepsi glasses–have been set aside for more research. They may end up in the sale, or on eBay, depending on what we find out.
From here, I think I can just follow my garage sale guide.
We’re going to run the sale on Friday, Saturday, and Monday of Labor Day weekend, to maximize traffic.
We’ll advertise in the paper and put up some signs. The house is on the busiest street nearby, so passing traffic should be high.
The nice thing about having an emptied house is that setup can be completely done ahead of time. We’re setting up tables and starting to price it all this weekend.
On the days of the sale, we’ll have at least 2 people working the entire time. One will be inside, while the other will be outside for the tools and furniture that are getting sold. Both will have money and be able to make change.
Outside, we’ll have the bigger pieces of furniture, tools, and some kid stuff to draw in passerby. Inside will be the appliances, jewelry, and the small and/or valuable items. We’ll only be setting up in the living room and dining room, with the back hallway and kitchen roped off, to control access and visibility.
We’ve got a bit of help available at different times over the weekend, so we should be able to handle the entire sale, including breaks, relatively smoothly.
Have you ever run an estate sale? Anything I’m missing?
Last weekend, we held a garage sale at my mother-in-law’s house. It was technically an estate sale, but we treated it exactly as a garage sale.
A week before we started, a friend’s mother came to buy all of the blankets and most of the dishes, pots, and non-sharp utensils so she could donate them all to a shelter she works with. She took at least 3 dozen comforters and blankets away.
Even after that truckload, we started with two double rows of tables through the living room and dining room. The tops of the tables were as absolutely full as we could get them, and the floor under the tables was also used for displaying merchandise.
Have you ever had to display 75 brand-new pairs of shoes in a minimal about of space? They claimed about 16 feet of under-table space all by themselves. Thankfully, the blankets weren’t there anymore.
We also had half of the driveway full of furniture, toys, and tools.
We had a lot of stuff.
Now, most people hold a sale to make some money. Not us. We held a sale to let other people pay us for the privilege of hauling away our crap. As such, it was all priced to move. The most expensive thing we sold was about $20, but I can’t remember what that was. Most things went for somewhere between 25 cents and $1.
At those prices, we sold at least 2000 items. That isn’t a typo. We ended the day with $1325. After taking out the initial seed cash, lunches we bought for the people helping us, and dinner we bought one night, we had a profit of $975.
At 25 cents per item.
We optimized to sell instead of optimizing for profit. At the end of a long summer of cleaning out a hoarding house, it all needed to go.
In the next part, I’ll explain exactly how we made it work.