- RT @mymoneyshrugged: The government breaks your leg, and hands you a crutch saying "see without me, you couldn't walk." #
- @bargainr What weeks do you need a FoF host for? in reply to bargainr #
- Awesome tagline: The coolest you'll look pooping your pants. Yay, @Huggies! #
- A textbook is not the real world. Not all business management professors understand marketing. #
- RT @thegoodhuman: Walden on work "spending best part of one's life earning money in order to enjoy (cont) http://tl.gd/2gugo6 #
The Magic Toilet
- Image by tokyofortwo via Flickr
My toilet is saving me $1200.
For a long time, my toilet ran. It was a nearly steady stream of money slipping down the drain. I knew that replacing the flapper was a quick job, but it was easy to ignore. If I wasn’t in the bathroom, I couldn’t hear it. If I was in the bathroom, I was otherwise occupied.
When I finally got sick of it, I started researching how to fix a running toilet because I had never done it before. I found the HydroRight Dual-Flush Converter. It’s the magical push-button, two-stage flusher. Yes, science fiction has taken over my bathroom. Or at least my toilet.
I bought the dual-flush converter, which replaces the flusher and the flapper. It has two buttons, which each use different amounts of water, depending on what you need it to do. I’m sure there’s a poop joke in there somewhere, but I’m pretending to have too much class to make it.
I also bought the matching fill valve. This lets you set how much water is allowed into the tank much better than just putting a brick in the tank. It’s a much faster fill and has a pressure nozzle that lies on the bottom of the tank. Every time you flush, it cleans the inside of the tank. Before I put it in, it had been at least 5 years since I had opened the tank. It was black. Two weeks later, it was white again. I wouldn’t want to eat off of it, or drink the water, but it was a definite improvement.
Installation would have been easier if the calcium buildup hadn’t welded the flush handle to the tank. That’s what reciprocating saws are for, though. That, and scaring my wife with the idea of replacing the toilet. Once the handle was off, it took 15 minutes to install.
“Wow”, you say? “Where’s the $1200”, you say? We’ve had this setup, which cost $35.42, since June 8th, 2010. It’s now September. That’s summer. We’ve watered both the lawn and the garden and our quarterly water bill has gone down $30, almost paying for the poo-gadget already. $30 X 4 = $120 per year, or $1200 over 10 years.
Yes, it will take a decade, but my toilet is saving me $1200.
Filing Bankruptcy: Pride or Shame?
I’m a big fan of personal responsibility. If you’ve promised to do something, you should do it. With that said, it seems odd to some people that I don’t have an ethical problem with bankruptcy. For some people, it is the only option after a long series of problems.
Don’t get me wrong, it should be a shameful decision. Reneging on your word should never be a source of pride. It should be a difficult decision to make. A couple of years ago, I came very close to making that decision myself.
It should not be a reason to celebrate and it should absolutely not be a reason to behave irresponsibly. Some people don’t see a need to take care of their responsibilities because, when it gets bad, they’ll be able to file bankruptcy and make the creditors go away. They are abusing a safety net. That abuse hurts everyone. Credit card companies have to charge higher interest rates so the paying customers can cover the risk of those who default or file bankruptcy.
There is one prominent local bankruptcy attorney who files every 10 years, and has filed consistently for decades. He runs a thriving practice, so it’s not a matter of poor choices, it’s a matter of deliberately living beyond his means and screwing his creditors. He’s one of the slime-balls that give lawyers a bad name. He is one of the many who abuse a lifeline designed to save people from a life of destitution they didn’t ask for, and he does it to finance his extravagant lifestyle.
If you have found yourself buried in a debt you didn’t plan for, if life threw you a curve-ball that you are entirely unable to deal with, if you have to file bankruptcy, it’s okay. Really. When you go in front of the judge, have the decency not to enjoy it, and try to learn from the experience.
Time vs Money Redux
Saving money is a good thing
Saving time is a good thing.
Somewhere in between, there has to be a balance. It’s possible to spend far too much time to save very little money.
For example, on September 30th, I left for the Financial Blogger’s Conference. Thinking I’d be frugal and save a little money, I told my GPS to avoid the toll roads. According to Google maps, the cheap route should have added 20 minutes to my trip. Coming into Illinois from Wisconsin on the toll roads, it’s easy to spend that much time waiting to pay the toll, since I don’t own an Illinois magic toll-paying box.
Unfortunately, the little smart-a** suction-cupped to my windshield sent mebthrough every construction zone between Wisconsin and Schaumberg, Illinois.
That sucks.
I went through a series of little towns with speed limits that randomly changed from block to block. Road construction had half of the roads down to just one lane. All told, I saved $3.40, judging by the tolls heading home, but the horrible detour cost me well over an hour and a half of time.
I saved $3.40, but lost 90 minutes. That’s not a good return on investment.
Just a month ago, I was ripping into my mother-in-law for wasting half an hour to save 75 cents. Then I have to go and demonstrate how horrible I am at making that save time vs money judgement.
I need to work on that.
What’s the most time you’ve spent to save a small amount of money?
Public Service Announcement: Anger, Children, and Cars
If, in the course of a basic morning, your three-year-old decides that you need to pick out her clothes, even though she’s been handling that every day for months, don’t be surprised if she rejects your first three choices. She’s just being lazy.
If, after you’ve settled on clothes, you tell her to pick out some socks, expect the same behavior. She’ll lie on the living room floor saying “You pick them out” for 20 minutes, only to throw a fit if you don’t pick the ones with fairies. At this point, it’s okay to yell at her. Really.
When she tears them off and throws them across the room, you don’t even have to be gentle when you put them back on and strap her shoes down to keep her socks on.
Then, when you’re walking across the yard, and she refuses because she’s mad, it is again okay to hold her hand to guide assist drag her to the car, but it works best if you are strong enough to keep her suspended above the ground when she tries to sit down to stop you.
Of course, when you get to the car, she’s going to run back to the front door because she can walk by herself.
Literally throwing her into the car at this point isn’t okay. Tempting, but not okay.
As the man said, I told you that so I could tell you this:
It would seem, now, that it would be a good idea to flip the child latch on the door to keep the contrary little brat from escaping while you circle the car to the driver’s door, or worse, slow down for a stop sign. It is a good idea.
The thing to remember is that, in your anger, when the world has gone red and you are cheering on the biological traits that make it nearly impossible to hurt your children, it is easy to stick the screwdriver in the wrong slot in the door and jam your door latch.
When that happens your door won’t close. Your little monster won’t stop aggravating you, and the child who has chosen to play the role of little angel this morning will start getting crabby about the wait. That doesn’t help.
After you throw the kids in the spare car–the car which doesn’t have air conditioning on the hottest day of the year, so far–and get the brats to daycare, the internet can show you what does help.
If, when you close your car door, it bounces back open because the latch is jammed, no amount of poking at it with a screwdriver will fix it. You’ll bleed for no good reason. Grab the door handle and hold it in the open position. Then, when you poke the latch with a screwdriver, it will pop into the correct position with very little effort.
It’s amazing what a door that closes will do for your morning.
Emergency Fund Goodness, Reasons #491,207 and #491,208
When you run a big company that handles a lot of one-year renewable contracts with the government at every level from city to federal, you tend to expect that you’ll need to do some legwork on the contract renewals before they expire. Preferably, you’d do this a few weeks before they expire so the bureaucratic mess that is the federal government can process the renewal on their end.
That’s a reasonable expectation after 30 years in the industry.
If, instead, you wait until the expiration date on the contract to submit the renewal to the federal agency in question, you’ll have a department to shut down for a week due to lack of work.
Then, at the end of that week, you’ll be reminded that the wheels of the federal government grind. very. slow.
So slow, in fact, that the department in question gets to stay shut down for at least another 2 weeks.
If you haven’t been doing the math, that is a surprise, unpaid, three-week vacation for my wife.
Our emergency fund hasn’t grown to the size that can handle this, but it is enough to take the edge off for a couple of weeks. Yay!
We’d already decided that we would be skipping a vacation this year, to give us more time to deal with my mother-in-law’s estate and hoarding remnants, so the vacation fund will be tapped. That should cover the rest, assuming her job does come back.
That’s part 1.
Part 2 is the story of a cat whose butt exploded on our bed at 1AM last week.
Poo–the cat named for her coloration–has been acting funny. She’d suddenly sprint in a circle around the room, then poop on the floor. Irritating.
One night, her sprint crossed our bed, so my wife pinned her down, hoping to break the cycle.
The cat screamed, then sprayed blood from her butt all over the pillows, blankets, sheets, and my wife.
That’s called a midnight visit to the emergency vet.
See, cats have anal glands that they use to sign their work when they are marking their territory. Sometimes, these glands get infected. Sometimes, the infection gets so bad the glands kind of…explode.
On my bed.
While I’m sleeping.
Pop.
Fixing that involves sedation, an ice cream scoop, and a sewing kit. Or something. I wasn’t really pushing for details when my wife called from the vet’s office.
For those of you who’ve never had a cat’s butt explode in your bed at one in the morning (and if you have, I’m not sure I want to hear the story), the emergency vet isn’t cheap. This visit cost us $500. It probably would have been half of that if we would have waited until the regular vet opened, but…ewww.
We’ll be starting our emergency fund from about 0 in the next few weeks, but it beats going in to debt over a couple of setbacks.
How’s your emergency fund? Is it enough to carry you through any unexpected setback?
