- Happy Independence Day! Be thankful for what you've been given by those who have gone before! #
- Waiting for fireworks with the brats. Excitement is high. #
- @PhilVillarreal Amazing. I'm really Cringer. That makes me feel creepy. in reply to PhilVillarreal #
- Built a public life-maintenance calendar in GCal. https://liverealnow.net/y7ph #
- @ericabiz makes webinars fun! Even if her house didn't collapse in the middle of it. #
- BOFH + idiot = bad combination #
The Luxury of Vacation
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.
30 Day Project – January
This month, I have two 30 Day Projects.
My first project is to start waking up at 5am. This will add an extra 90 minutes to my day, which will give me time to manage all of my other 30 day projects. I’ll be able to wake up to a quiet house, walk the dog, eat breakfast and not start every day in a rush to get out of the house. Today was my exception. After watching 2010 arrive, I didn’t get up early.
The second project is to start reading to my children every night before bed. We read to the kids often, but not every day. That’s going to change. We are also working on breaking the girls of the family bed. If I can read them to sleep each night, it will help. Good, educational family time that makes it easier to sleep every night.
These are both habits I want to keep long after the month is up.
Failure! 30 Day Project Summary – March
My 30 Day Project for the month of March has been to do 100 sit-ups in a single set. Based on February’s results, I had a plan.
I will be doing 5 sets, morning and night, as follows:
Set 1: Half of my maximum amount.
Sets 2-4: 3/4 of my max.
Set 5: Do sit-ups until my abs start to cramp, thus setting my max for the next session.
I failed miserably.
It started off perfectly. My base amount was 20 sit-ups. I had a plan. I’d proven, at least to myself, that I was able to follow an intense workout plan, even through pain. I was encouraged by February’s results, so I dove in.
The first 3 or 4 days went well. I had some muscle strain, but that was expected. I hadn’t done sit-ups for years. I discovered muscles I actually hadn’t known existed, just from how they hurt. This was the good pain, the pain that shows progress. After doing the push-ups in February, this pain wasn’t as bad as I had expected. Push-ups are an excellent ab workout.
Maybe I became complacent. Either my form slipped, or I was going too fast and “bounced” through the sit-ups, but I pulled a muscle in my back. This was the bad pain, the pain that warns of fundamental problems. My form, my size, my history of back problems, who knows? One or more of those possible problems reared up to turn an excellent idea into a disaster. March’s plan got sidelined for a few days.
When my back was better, I started again. Again, everything was fine for 3 or 4 days. Then my back betrayed me, again. Another break, another try, another strain and I gave up. I made it to 50, then just stopped. Too much more, and I wouldn’t be able to tolerate sitting at my desk. Or maybe I just wimped out, afraid to hurt my back again.
I’m disappointed. I haven’t done a single sit-up in the last week.
To make matters worse, without the sit-ups to do in the morning, I’ve been letting myself snooze my alarm clock instead of getting up at 5. March has been such a slacker month.
Lesson learned: Always listen to your body. Don’t get tied into a specific routine–even one you created for yourself–if your body is demanding to stop. Watch your form and make sure you aren’t putting undue strain on anything that can cause long-term damage.
Lesson learned, part II: Push-ups are more fun and less painful than sit-ups. They will be getting incorporated into my ongoing routine.
Ending the sit-ups did leave me enough energy to get an early start on April’s 30 Day Project. The goal for next month is to declutter every room in the house: Every closet, every dresser, every drawer.
To start, we replaced our son’s dresser, bed, and desk with a loft-bed that combines the three. While transferring items from the desk and dresser to the new bed, everything was sorted to make sure it still fit and was used and useful. If it didn’t meet those criteria, it was either tossed or priced and boxed for a garage sale.
In the girls’ room, we removed a dresser, the changing table, a toddler bed, a convertible crib/toddler bed. It all got replaced with a set of bunk beds and the dresser we took from our son. Everything got the same garage-sale check before it was put away.
Both of these changes easily tripled the usable floor space in each room and all of the kids love their new beds. Using the magic of Craigslist, I think we got the new furniture for 10-15% of retail, and have old furniture to add to our sale, which will further defray the cost.
This leaves the master bedroom, the bathroom, the front closet, the kitchen and our entire basement to go. Shoes and jackets that have never been worn. Books that will never be reread. Bye-bye. Some of it will be painful, but we all realize it’s necessary. We’ve already filled more than 2 dozen boxes of stuff to sell. None of it is coming back in the house. If it doesn’t sell, we’re donating it.
More to come as we progress through the mountains of crap.
Chains of Servitude Update
It’s been almost exactly one year since I told my wife that we were either going to take control of our finances or file bankruptcy.
At that time, we were spending at least $500 more each month than we made, and often, it was $1000 more. We had more than $5000 accumulated on our overdraft line of credit, more than $30,000 in credit card debt, $2500 on a student loan, $12,000 on a car note, and our mortgage.
Our savings were nonexistent. We had automatic deposits established, but we’d transfer the money out right away to cover other expenses. Everything that came up was an emergency and a surprise. We had no real idea how much our lifestyles cost or what it actually took to maintain.
Maintaining our finances took several hours every payday to balance the checkbook and pay bills.
Fast forward 1 year. The student loan is gone, the line of credit will be gone next month, and the car loan will be paid off before the end of the year. We’ve reduced our total debt load by more than 20%.
We have a useful emergency fund and we’re meeting our other savings goals, including a college fund for the kids. We don’t have extremely high balances, but it’s reassuring to have more than a couple of months of expenses in our savings accounts.
We’ve automated almost everything and gone to a cash-only system. I now spend about 20 minutes a month balancing the checkbook and less than 5 minutes paying bills.
A year ago, we were in a hole, digging as fast as we could. Now, we can see the end of the debt tunnel and we are rushing as fast as we can to get there. According to my debt spreadsheet, we will be completely debt free in just under 4 years, ignoring any money coming from our side-hustles and work bonuses.
We’re making better progress than I had hoped for, and it keeps getting easier. Smart spending is becoming a habit, instead of a just wishful thinking.
Update: This post has been included in the Carnival of Debt Reduction.
How come my back hurts?
My favorite book series is the Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind. It’s a good sword-and-sorcery, good-versus-evil fantasy.
But I’m not here to talk about that series. Rather, I’m going to talk about one particular scene in book 6, Faith of the Fallen.
There’s a scene where Richard, the protagonist, ends up in a socialist workers’ paradise, where the government controls distribution and everybody is starving. Jobs are hard to come by, because everything is unionized and unions control access to work. That’s a non-accidental parallel to every country that has embrace socialist principles, or even leans that way. Go open a business with employees in France, I dare you.
So Richard goes out of his way to help someone with no expectation of reward. This person then offers to vouch for him at the union meeting, effectively offering him a job.
This is the conversation that follows:
Nicci shook her head in disgust. “Ordinary people don’t have your luck, Richard. Ordinary people suffer and struggle while your luck gets you into a job.”
“If it was luck,” Richard asked, “then how come my back hurts?”
If it was luck, how come my back hurts?
Seneca, a 2000-year-dead Roman philosopher said, “Luck is where the crossroads of opportunity and preparation meet.”
I won’t lie, I’ve got a pretty cushy job. I make decent money, I work from home, I love my company’s mission, and I kind of fell into the job.
By fell into, I mean:
- I started teaching myself to program computers when I was 7.
- I worked in a collection agency collecting on defaulted student loans to put myself through college while I had a baby at home.
- When I graduated, I went out of my way to help anyone I could, which positioned me for a promotion, getting my first programming job. The first one is the hardest.
- I spent 3 years studying the online marketing aspects of what I’m doing, with no promise of a payoff.
- I launched a side business in the same industry as the company I work for.
- I built a relationship with an author to include his books in the classes I teach. He happened to move to the company I’m with.
- I offered advice–for free, on a regular basis–on certain aspects of his business and his responsibilities with this company.
- He offered me a job.
That’s 25 years and tens of thousands of dollars spent earning my luck. How come my back hurts?
I have a friend on disability. He has a couple of partially-shattered vertebrae in his back, but he keeps pushing off the corrective surgery because the payments would stop after he heals. He refuses to get a regular job, because his payments would stop. He lives on $400 per month and whatever he can hustle for cash, and he will make just that until the day he dies. And he complains about his bad luck.
His back literally hurts, but not metaphorically. His bad luck is the product of deliberately holding himself down to keep that free check flowing.
I have another friend who made some bad decisions young. Some years ago, he decided that was over. He took custody of his kid and started a business that rode the housing bubble. When the bubble popped, so did his business. Instead of whining about his luck, he worked his way into an entry-level banking job.
He put in long (long!) hours, bending over backwards to help his customers and coworkers, and managed a few promotions, far earlier than normal. His coworkers whined about it. He’s so lucky. If it was luck, why does his back hurt?
We make our own luck.
If you bust your ass, working hard and helping people–your coworkers, your customers, your friends, your neighbors–and you are willing to seize an opportunity when it appears, you will get ahead. When you do, the people around you who do the bare minimum, who refuse–or are afraid–to seize an opportunity, who always ask what’s in it for them, they will will whine about your luck.
When they do, you will get to ask, “If it was luck, how come my back hurts?”
