- I miss electricity. #
- @prosperousfool Do you still need a dropbox referral? in reply to prosperousfool #
- @prosperousfool Dropbox: https://www.dropbox.com/referrals/NTE1Mjk2OTU5 in reply to prosperousfool #
- Don't let anyone tell you otherwise: Electricity is the bee's knees, the wasp's nipples and lots of other insect erogenous zones. #
- @prosperousfool Throw in a Truecrypt partition and the PortableApps launcher and it gets really neat. in reply to prosperousfool #
- @prosperousfool Universal accessibility. I put an encrypted partition on it so any receipts or credit card info or login info would be safe in reply to prosperousfool #
- RT @untemplater: RT @jenny_blake: Deep thought of the day: "How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours." -Wayne Dyer #quote #
- @FARNOOSH So what's happening to the one good show on SOAPNet? in reply to FARNOOSH #
- RT @flexo: RT @mainstr: 1 million Americans have been swindled in an elaborate credit card scam and they may not know http://bit.ly/cr8DNK #
A Perfectly Maid Home
Last night, I got home after a 13 hour day at the office and found a spotlessly clean house. The laundry was folded. The dishes were done, and everything was put away.
It was great.
I work 80 hours a week, 90 if you count commuting time.
That’s about 50 hours at my day job, 10-15 hours working on this site, and 20-30 hours working on my other side hustles. Some weeks, my volunteer geek skills get put to use for a local non-profit, too.
My wife works at least 40 hours every week.
We chase our kids around, plan or birthday parties, visit family, take care of the yard, and do everything else that every other family does.
The difference is that, if I take work in all of its forms out of the equation and give myself permission to get a full night’s sleep every night, I have a total of 20-30 hours per week to eat, socialize, and spend time with my family. That not a lot.
I hate cleaning.
Between my work schedule and my cleaning aversion, I’m not always a lot of help around the house.
Half of my work time is spent at home. It’s hardly fair to expect my wife to clean up after me.
This has been a huge point of contention between us. She sees me on the computer and gets frustrated when I’m not helping her clean up. I get frustrated because I’m trying to make us some extra money, but she’s complaining that I’m not cleaning.
About a month ago, we hired a housekeeper. She comes every other week for a few hours and does a phenomenal job cleaning our house. We pay her about $150 per month for the work.
It’s been great.
My wife is happy because the house is clean. I’m happy because the complaining has stopped. Our housekeeper is happy because it’s more money. It’s a win/win/win scenario.
Now, $150 is a decent amount to add to our debt snowball, but paying for the cleaning services facilitates my side hustles, which bring in quite a bit more than $150 per month, so it’s even a good idea financially.
Even if it’s not, the peace of mind of knowing that I didn’t have to fold all of the laundry that was waiting for me yesterday makes it worthwhile.
How about you? Would you consider hiring a maid? Why?
Deathbed Regrets

A friend recently pointed me to an article written by a hospice nurse. This nurse spent her career working with people who were dying, beyond recovery, and aware of it. Her job, primarily, was to provide comfort, whether that be physical or emotional.
During her conversations, she found several themes when her patients discussed their regrets and she lists the 5 most common regrets in her article.
I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
I don’t see this one being an issue for me. While I did buy in to a standard life template (college, wife, kids, suburbs, office, etc.), I am me. I am undeniably me.
I’d be delusional to think that I wasn’t a bit…different. I see things differently than a lot of other people, I react differently, and I’m vocal about it. That sometimes makes it hard to get close to me. I doubt anyone who is close to me would argue with that.
I also tend to do things. Most people talk about doing things, I try to make them happen. “I wish I were out of debt”, “Honey, I want to start a business”, “Let’s drop 40 pounds this year”, or “I want to build a trebuchet”. I think I know why my wife gets nervous when I say “I have an idea”.
I may not be running anyone else’s script, but at the end of the day, I’d regret not doing things more than I’d regret trying them.
I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This one is a personal struggle for me. I’m scared of missing my children grow up. I hate the idea of looking back and finding my children as adults, with few memories of how they got there.
At the same time, I’ve got a pile of debt I need to get rid of before I can dial back too far. I could quit my job tomorrow, but that wouldn’t be providing a good life for them.
My worry, and the worry of some people close to me, is that, once the debt is gone, I won’t be able to let go of my extreme work hours, even though I’m working so hard now to be able to work less later. “Later”, in this case, means a couple of years, not retirement.
I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Ugh. Feelings. If this is a standard deathbed regret, I’m screwed. My loved ones know I love them, but other than that, I’m happy to be in control of myself.
I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
I do. It’s not always close contact, but it is contact.
I’m of the opinion that life’s too short to spend time with people you dislike, so some people have been relegated to the past. My friends, my family, my loved ones are a part of my life, even if it’s occasionally months between emails or years between visits.
I wish that I had let myself be happier.
I think I do pretty well on this front, too. Happiness is a choice. I could worry about all of the things that aren’t perfect, or I could enjoy the things I have. I choose to enjoy what I’ve got, even while trying to improve the rest.
In the words of Denis Leary : “Happiness comes in small doses folks. It’s a cigarette, or a chocolate cookie, or a five second orgasm. That’s it, ok! [You] eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to…work, ok!? That is it!”
Happiness isn’t a hobby farm, a new job, or a dream vacation. Happiness is a date with my wife, or cuddling with my kids to Saturday morning cartoons, or taking my son to the range.
Happiness is the things I’m doing now, not the dreams I’m hoping for someday.
Good Friday
We don’t have daycare on Good Friday.
We do, however, both have to work today. Two rounds of little-girl tonsillitis have zapped our available vacation time.
On an entirely related note, we put our 12 year old son through Red Cross babysitter training a few weeks ago, just for something like this.
My wife gets nervous at the idea of leaving the girls with the boy for very long. I think she thinks the world will explode if he takes care of them correctly.
Our solution for today is to have a slightly older friend come over and help.
She’s 13 and she brought her 10 year old brother with her.
That’s kids aged 3,5,10,12, and 13 in my house today. Total Lord of the Flies.
Hold that thought.
My son, being 12, doesn’t feel it’s necessary to brush his hair for school, or change his clothes every day, and he needs to be reminded to brush his teeth.
This morning, he woke himself up and ran into the bathroom. He emerged with clean teeth and combed hair. I asked him if he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday, and he flew into his room to change.
Hmm. Something is afoot.
While I was putting my shoes on, I reminded him to take care of the house and his sisters, and he made some smart-aleck joke in response.
She giggled.
Watson, I think I’ve found a clue.
Her father told me, just yesterday, the she thinks boys are gross.
The boy has never shown an interest in girls, until this morning.
Grr. The next decade just got considerably more interesting.
Time to lock them both in their respective basements until college.
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.
Nigella Lawson and the High Cost of divorce

Heartache and heartbreak are hard enough to endure but imagine having to go through the loss of a relationship while the world looks on. Such is the high price of celebrity divorce and the latest victim is the beautiful and talented television chef, Nigella Lawson. Shocking photos of Nigella apparently being choked by her husband, Charles Saatchi, surfaced in the media following the June 9th dinner at Scott’s restaurant in Mayfair, London, where the incident occurred. Saatchi’s advisors urged him to humble himself and admit a public apology for the assault. Saatchi denied any wrongdoing, saying he never assaulted her and in fact, was actually removing mucous from his wife’s nose. Nigella was stunned by the admonition of “nose-picking” and his refusal to apologize. She left Saatchi and their family home in Chelsea.