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Let me check….
A few days ago, I asked a coworker if she wanted to go out for lunch. She said she’d have to check her bank account before she decided.
What?
If you have to check your bank balance to know if you can afford something, you can’t afford it. It really is that simple.
Now, strict budgets aren’t for everyone, but everyone should know how much money they have available to spend. If you don’t know what you have to spare, you need to set up a budget.
Period.
After you’ve done that, you can ignore it, with the exception of knowing how much you have available to blow on groceries, entertainment, and other discretionary purchases.
If you don’t know where your money needs to go, how can you determine how much you can spend on the things you want?
Carnival Roundup
Live Real, Now was included in the following carnivals recently:
Yakezie Carnival hosted by Consumer FU
Finance Carnival for Young Adults hosted by PF Carny
Carnival of Money Pros hosted by Savvy Scot
Carnival of Retirement #63 hosted by Midlife Finances
Yakezie Carnival hosted by Thirty Six Months
Carnival of Money Pros hosted by Making Sense of Cents
Carnival of Financial Independence #7 hosted by Reach Financial Independence
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Born to Launch
I’ve recently discovered something about myself: I like doing new things.
More to the point of this post: I like making new things.
I also like learning new things.
Unfortunately, once the newness wears off, I start to lose interest.
I’m a software engineer, so I regularly build new things and solve new puzzles. When a project gets into maintenance mode and the new stuff ends, I want to chuck the whole thing in the river and move on.
That carries over into other things, too. Start a business, lock down some skills, get some customers, then enter maintenance mode. Boring.
Pick up a new hobby, achieve a basic level of mastery, watch it stop being fun.
Play a new video game, get good at it, get bored.
It’s a flaw in my character and it’s a pretty serious flaw. Soon after I reach the point where I can fly with a new skill or project, I quit wanting to do it.
When it quits being new, it quits being fun.
When I pick up a new hobby, I get good at it, I get bored with it, so the setup equipment tends to collect dust.
Some of this is work stuff, which isn’t supposed to be fun. If it were, they wouldn’t call it “work”, they’d call it “happy fun time”.
Some of this could replace work stuff, but I’m not sure how to power through when I hit this particular wall. Just making money doesn’t keep something exciting. If I’m not excited, it’s hard to stay motivated, which is probably why I let the dishes pile up. (Sorry, honey!)
There is a good side to this flaw: I’m never bored. I fill notebooks with the things I want to do next, from blacksmithing lessons to building a foreign language learning site. I have absolute confidence that I’ll never be bored for long, and I’ll never be short of new ways to make money, but that doesn’t make me feel stable.
I have a need for stability, and I have a need for new. Finding that balance is a challenge.
Maybe I just need to launch things faster to build a bigger safety net. That would let me revel in the new without putting my lifestyle at risk.
Friends and Acquaintances
“Friends help you move. Good friends help you move bodies.”
-unknown
Some people have dozens of friends. I’m not that guy.
I have 6.
Everybody in the world can be divided into 4 categories.
- Strangers. A xenophobe’s nightmare. These are the people you don’t know, whether they are passing you on the sidewalk, or newborns on the opposite side of the world.
- Acquaintances. These are the people you’ve met, mostly in passing. They tend not to have much effect on your life. You may pass a friendly bus ride in conversation, but it’s nothing that sticks. A waitress, the clerk at the store, a friend’s latest date; these are the people you interact with for just a moment and rarely think about further.
- Friendlies. Most people call these folks friends. I don’t. I’m friendly with them, hence the name, but it’s not true friendship. Often, they are either my wife’s friends, or my friends’ wives. Sometimes, they are a friend of a friend that I only see at parties, or a coworker that I get along with, but never see outside of work. We’re friendly, but not obliged. I may help with some things, but it’s not necessarily a priority. I’ll go to a funeral, but probably won’t help plan it.
- Friends. To me, calling someone a friend is a big deal. I’m willing to do a lot for my friends. They are able to command large amounts of my time, and ask any number of favors. If needed, I’ll open my home or help demolish their’s. Loyalty, honesty, trust, respect, and companionship are all a part of my definition of a friend. If a friend needs help, I’ll come running. In return, I expect the same.
Family tends to fall into the same analogous categories.
It sounds cold, but I hesitate to let people graduate into the final category. My wife used to try to “set me up” with people that she thought I’d like to be friends with, thinking I was sad to have so few friends. It took years for her to realize that I was happy. It’s a matter of quality over quantity. Most of the friends I have, I’ve had for 10 years or more. I’ve known each of them for at least 5 years, not that time is a requirement.
Moving people into the “friends” category is a lot like dating. You get along, so you invite the potential friends out for a drink, one on one. You feel them out to see if they are compatible. You meet their families, share some food, build some history. If it all works out, eventually, you consider them a true friend, even if you couldn’t mark the date of the transition.
You wouldn’t marry everyone you date, so why would turn everyone you basically get along with into a friend?
Do you have a lot of friends? What marks friendship for you?
Hunting Trip Stress
Vegans and hippies won’t enjoy this post.
Friday, I went to a cabin in the woods for a weekend hunting trip with my dad, my brother, and a few other people.
My wife didn’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, she was terrified that I’d walk into the woods and come out in a body bag.
Statistically, it’s safe. Out of 12.5 million hunters, there are only around 100 fatal hunting accidents every year. I think I went hunting for the first time when I was 12, and continued to do so until I was 17, then life started interfering.
That doesn’t matter. By definition phobias aren’t rational. She’s worried and stressing hard.
If she’s had such a hard time with it, why did I go?
First, I asked her six months ago if she’d be all right with the trip. I knew she had some phobias, and have–in fact–tried to make the trip before. Six months ago, she said yes. It was a bit late to back out after I’ve committed to a share of the cabin, bought the bright orange gear, and agreed to drive my brother.
The second reason was more important.
This is one of the few things my dad and I both enjoy. I’m a geek, he’s not. I dig horror and sci-fi, he’s into westerns.
But we both enjoy hunting. The first time he treated me like an adult was the first year we went hunting together, 15 years ago.
My dad taught me to be the man I am. Without him, I have no idea who I’d be or what I’d be doing. My integrity, my work ethic, and my moral code can all be traced to the things he taught me.
This is my chance to spend time with him and have a good time with no TV or whiny kids interfering.
Trading this for a few days of stress at home is something I’m willing to do.
