- I tried to avoid it. I really did, but I’m still getting a much bigger refund than anticipated. #
- Did 100 pushups this morning–in 1 set. New goal: Perfect form by the end of the month. #
- RT @BudgetsAreSexy: Carnival of Personal Finance is live 🙂 DOLLAR DOODLE theme: http://tinyurl.com/ykldt7q (haha…) #
- Hosting my first carnival tomorrow. Up too late tonight. #
- Woot! My boy won his wreslting match! Proud daddy. #
- The Get Home Card is a prepaid emergency transportation card. http://su.pr/329U6L #
- Real hourly wage calculator. http://su.pr/1jV4W6 #
- Took my envelope budget out in cash, including a stack of $2s. That shouldn’t fluster the bank teller. #
30 Day Project Update
My first 30 Day Project for the month of February has been to work my way up to doing 100 pushups in a single set. At the end of January, I did a test to find my baseline, my starting point. I could do 20 pushups, but there was no way 21 would happen.
My plan, based purely on the math, was to start from there, doing 5 sets in the morning and 5 more at night, adding a set number to each set every day. That lasted a day.
The problem with starting a new exercise routine at my max level and progressing from there is the pain. Holy wow, that hurt on the second day. I was doing sets of 5, then. Ow.
The new plan has worked much better. It is an aggressive, self-correcting progression that automatically correct for over-extending myself.
I do 5 sets. Each set is based on the maximum set in my previous session. My first set is half of my max. The next 3 sets are 3/4 of my max, and the final set ends when my abs are cramping and I want to cry, establishing my max for the next session. If I over-extended myself in the previous session, this set either shrinks or stays the same. If the final set stagnates for a couple of days, I take a day off to rest. When I come back, the sets improve drastically.
How well has this worked? Last night, at the halfway point for the month, I ended with a set of 75 pushups and noticable muscle growth. Next month, I’m doing situps and I will be using the same plan.
Plan #2 is also coming along well. Details in 2 weeks.
Mastermind – The Best Personality Type
A few of the best personal finance blogs have decided to post on a theme. It’s a personality type blog carnival.
After taking the Jung Typology Test, I discovered that I am an INTJ; a Rational Mastermind. Specifically I am I(78%) N(12%) T(75%) J(44%).
What does that mean, you ask?
It means that I am rare. Fewer than 3% of the population has my personality type, which is Introvert iNtuition Thinking Judgement, but the intuition is close to Sensing, making me almost an ISTJ, or a Guardian Inspector.
From Wikipedia:
- I – Introversion preferred to extraversion: INTJs tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations (whereas extraverts gain energy).
- N – Intuition preferred to sensing: INTJs tend to be more abstract than concrete. They focus their attention on the big picture rather than the details and on future possibilities rather than immediate realities.
- T – Thinking preferred to feeling: INTJs tend to value objective criteria above personal preference. When making decisions they generally give more weight to logic than to social considerations.
- J – Judgment preferred to perception: INTJs tend to plan their activities and make decisions early. They derive a sense of control through predictability, which to perceptive types may seem limiting.
- S – Sensing preferred to intuition: ISTJs tend to be more concrete than abstract. They focus their attention on the details rather than the big picture, and on immediate realities rather than future possibilities.
To summarize the personality of a mastermind: We are big-picture planners. We see patterns other people miss and use that to solve complex puzzles and problems. It’s not possible to follow a thought through the head of a mastermind, because thinking comes with a ton of free association. We may be watching an episode of Spongebob, and something Patrick does will trigger a domino-effect of seemingly unrelated thoughts that will lead a conclusion, out of nowhere. Often, we aren’t aware of the process.
We don’t do crowds, at least, not often. Good conversation with good friends is better than a party full of people we barely know. Crowds are draining. A quiet night at home is a good night, but that’s not saying we-re shy. We just don’t enjoy keeping up with small talk and polite chatter. Get us on a topic we’re passionate about and you won’t shut us up. Get us in a group of people we care about, and we can be the life of the party.
As a group, we are ambitious and deliberate. We are capable of making firm decisions, confidently. Confidence is one of the hallmarks of a mastermind, but one I don’t have to the normal extreme.
We are obsessive focused. When we get set on a problem, we focus in a way that leaves other people stupefied. Time goes away. The rest of the world fades. You may have to shout to get our attention. Sometimes, our minds will drift in the middle of a conversation, and we’ll lose track of who’s saying what. It’s rude, but that doesn’t change the way we are wired.
We don’t do emotion. We are rational and get frustrated with people who make decisions based on emotion. This makes it hard to connect with others, but that’s okay, because it’s better to have a few extremely close friends than a crowd of mere acquaintances. Unfortunately, this can make relationships difficult, too. The benefit to dating or marrying an INTJ is that we carry our focus into relationships. We take our relationships seriously.
We are inwardly-focused, so we spend quite a bit of time examining ourselves. This can lead to a long series of self-improvement projects, but none get taken on as a mere fad. They are planned and dissected before even being mentioned to others, let alone undertaken.
We take criticism well, but if you can’t back up the critique with facts and reasoning, don’t bother. Rational, remember?
We are driven by a need to understand. Once we understand, a given project or line of thought may be abandoned. Until we understand, very little can shake our focus.
Self-promotion is difficult, since we don’t get into the heads of others well. They should be able to see the obvious benefits without being told, right?
Now, to cross a bit of the ISTJ into the mix.
An Inspector is duty bound and loyal, to an extreme. They are dependable workhorses. Under stress, they can get stuck on the things that could go wrong, which would explain why I miss out on the confidence brought by being a mastermind.
To summarize me:
- I am a planner.
- I am extremely focused, to the point of obsession.
- I am driven to learn new things, constantly. Few of those things are incorporated into my life, long-term.
- I don’t cheat. Taxes, games, relationships, etc.
- I am intensely loyal, but to very few people or causes. I don’t end relationships quickly or easily. That said, when it’s time for them to be over, I can break it off with little regret.
Security, improvement, planning, learning, thinking, loyalty, honesty, integrity.
That sounds about right.
Now you know a bit about how I tick. What’s your personality type?
Deathbed Relationships
My great-uncle has been depressed lately.
He lives in the same apartment building and my grandmother, his sister. They are just down the hall from each other.
Over the holidays, he’s seen a steady stream of people visiting my grandma, bringing cards and pictures, or taking her out to eat. Over Christmas weekend, she spent far more time away from home, celebrating with her kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids than she did at home.
He’s never met his great-grandchildren. He’s in his 70s, living in a retirement home attached to the nursing home he will most likely die in, and he’d like to see his descendants.
It’s too late.
He didn’t lose his relationship with his kids and grandkids in a fight. Instead, he spent his entire life doing his best to avoid all forms of responsibility. He spent 50 years avoiding supporting his family. He wasn’t there for them.
Of course they won’t be there for him.
There is a simple way to get your kids and your grandkids to dote on you in your old age: You spend your entire life being there when you’re needed.
Simple.
Building a relationship that can survive–or even thrive–in the times when you’ve got very little left to give takes a lifetime of commitment.
It starts the day your children are born, when you hold that precious little high-maintenance paperweight and swear that nothing bad will ever be allowed to happen to them. Then you teach them to walk, and teach them to talk, and kiss their booboos when they fall. And they will.
Day in, day out, you be there. You feed them, clothe them, punish them when necessary, and love them unconditionally even when they make it hard to like them. Every blessed day.
You soothe their pains, manage their fears, help them grow and turn into useful adults. Every flipping year.
When they are adults, you lend an ear, you lend a hand, you help with their babies, you offer advice, you listen and talk and you are there. Decade after decade.
Then, when you are old and broke and broken down, you’ve got people who love you, who cherish their memories with you. These are the people who will drive an hour out of their way to pick you up for dinner. They’ll carry you up the stairs you have trouble with. They’ll sit at your feet and listen to you tell stories. They’ll be there for you because you’ve always been there for them.
That’s how you get your kids and grandkids to visit you in the nursing home. Simple, not easy.
If you’ve missed their childhood–for whatever reason–it’s still possible to build that relationship, but it’s so much harder. You start by taking time out of your life to do spend time and be there. Help when you can with what you can. Be there.
If you wait until you are old and broke and broken down to start your relationship, it’s too late. Your kids will know that it’s just another example of your selfishness. If you’ve never made an effort to give, you’ve got know business expecting to get. You’ll be lucky to get an occasional phone call and a greeting card for the holidays.
Working My Life Away
Since J. and Crystalare playing, and I don’t have a post scheduled for today, I thought I’d share my work history, too.
There are a couple of interesting things about my work history. Job #1 started when I was 6. Job #9 started when I was 21. I’m 33 now.
- Paper route. I delivered the local ad-rag. The route was split with my brothers. When I was 6, my share of the route was just the street we lived on. I think I had 8 papers to deliver. Later, that expanded to almost half of our tiny town.
- Odd farm jobs. I spent some time doing whatever needed to be done on a local hobby farm. That means everything from helping shore up a sagging wall in the barn to raking walnuts off of the yard.
- Dishwasher at my school. My freshman year, I gave up a study hall to wash dishes and serve lunch. My school was K-12, so I’d eat at the same time as the little kids, then wash their dishes and serve lunch to the rest of the students for $4.25/hour. I kept at it until my senior year, when I decided to relax a bit.
- Construction. Working with my Dad, until I fell off a ladder and severed a tendon in my finger when I landed. Easily the most difficult boss I’ve ever had, but it was excellent preparation for every other job I’ve ever had. His philosophy was that if he had to ask for it, I should have already known he needed it. Try carrying that training into another job and see if they complain.
- Dishwasher/Cook. I turned 16 and needed a job to afford a car that I needed to get a job. Nasty cycle. It took a couple of weeks of looking. Apparently, if a teenager puts on a nice shirt and shows up to the interview on time, he is way ahead of the curve. It took about 2 months to go from dishwasher to cook, and I kept the job until I was 18. I was working full-time all through high school.
- Palletizer. I spent 9 months standing at the end of a conveyor belt, picking up 50 pound bags of food powder mixes, taking 3 steps, and putting them on a pallet. We averaged 1500 bags per night. Fifteen years later, I still can’t comfortably button the cuffs of most shirts. When I flex, my forearms look like I have an unhealty “adult” internet addiction.
- Cook. While I was palletizing, I had a second job as a cook at a bar, working for a guy who was trying to avoid turning a profit by drinking his main product. This was 5 miles from the other job, and my car died right after I started, so I biked from job to job. In Minnesota. In the winter. I was a lean, mean popsicle.
- Machine Operator. I moved from the sticks to the Minneapolis area and was immediately hired to be run a CNC machine based on a friend’s recommendation to his boss. The pay was great for an 18 year old with no skills. I worked 5 twelve-hour graveyard shifts. The job mostly consisted of putting a little chunk of metal into a machine, closing the door, pushing a button, and sitting down for 15 minutes. This is the period of my life that trained me to shop for books based primarily on thickness.
- Bill Collector/System Administrator. After Brat #1 was born, 12 hour graves got to be a big pain. I’d work from 5 to 5, come home and make sure my wife got at least 4 hours of sleep, then I’d sleep for 4-5 hours and go back to work. Brat #1(who is now 13 and about 6 feet tall) needed to be fed every hour, so solid sleep didn’t happen for months. I took a pay cut to work normal, day-shift hours. I ended up working my way through college by collecting on defaulted student loans. Shortly after I graduated, I got promoted to be the system administrator of the collection system, responsible for hundreds of millions of dollars of debts flowing into and through our system correctly. I had a security clearance allowing me access to the Department of Treasury’s computer system. After a few years of this, the company decided that there were too many people with the same job description, so 5 overworked admins got laid off while the 6th got screwed with far too much work.
- Software Engineer. This is now. I write cataloging and ecommerce software, while managing a small team of programmers. I spend half of my day working on customer software estimates, training, and assisting on sales demos and half of my day writing code. I’m kind of a big deal.
That’s it, if I don’t count my side hustles. I’ve been earning a paycheck for 27 years, and have only had 10 jobs.
When did you start working? How many jobs have you had?
The End of Litter
In honor of Earth Day (a day late), I’m going to talk about ending litter.
Not the stuff you find on the street or throw from your car window. I don’t mind that because, on a long enough timeline, everything is biodegradable. Mother Nature is tougher than I am. She can handle my McDonald’s wrappers.
No, I’m talking about the real scourge: cat litter.
We’ve got four of the things, and let me tell you, they make poop. Everyday. I keep telling my wife that they are going to continue making poop as long as we keep feeding them, but she continues to give them food.
For those of you who don’t know, most cats use a litter box, which is a fun pan full of a sand-like mixture of diatomaceous earth and bentonite clay, which trains your cat to use the neighbor kid’s sandbox if you let the little potsticker go outside.
Thanks for that.
So, everyday, our four cats crap in a couple of pans full of sand. Until the sand pans get too full of cat crap. Then, they use the couch.
Who decided this was a good system? Is it a conspiracy of Big Couch to force people to buy new furniture on a regular basis, the way Big Oil suppressed the 1000 mile-per-gallon carburetor, Big Pharma suppressed the cure-all hemlock pill, and Big Sword suppressed world peace during the Dark Ages?
There’s got to be a better way.
Right?
Enter the CitiKitty. It’s the miracle cat potty trainer featured on The Shark Tank.
Here’s how it works:
- Move the litter box to the bathroom and start using flushable cat litter.
- Once the cats are comfortable with that change, put the CitiKitty on the toilet, under the ring and add litter.
- In a week or two, when all of the cats are comfortable with the setup, pop out the center ring of the CitiKitty. This gets the cats used to doing their business over water.
- Every couple of weeks, pop out another ring until the cats are used to standing on the slippery ring and crapping directly into the water. Praise the cat when it happens, because cats give a crap about your opinion.
- Throw the litter box away and brag to your friends.
Because I love testing things to make my life easier, and I hate cat crap, I gave the thing a try.
It worked great until step 3. Apparently, pooping directly into water is similar to trapping a vampire with running water and causes the cats to panic and find somewhere else to poop, never to return to the bathroom.
There’s really nothing better than stumbling into the living room half asleep, turning on the news and flopping onto the couch, only to find a little lump, still warm, under your butt.
Don’t get me wrong, step 2 was a pain in the neck, too. In order to use the toilet, you have to take the stinking sandbox off of the toilet without spilling litter all over the bathroom, find a place to set it that isn’t disgusting, do your business, put the litter pan back on the toilet, and wash your hands really hard. If you’re a friend of my son’s sleeping over, it’s easier just to not notice the litter box sitting there and top it off in the middle of the night.
It’s a heck of an idea. The best execution I’ve seen for getting a cat to crap in the toilet.
But it doesn’t frickin’ work. If you’ve got a cat using the toilet, I’m guessing you had to sacrifice the neighbor kid to some kind of evil Lovecraftian entity to make it happen, because the CitiKitty didn’t do it.