- RT @kristinbrianne: Get Talk and Txt Unlimited Cell Svc w/ Free Phone for $10 per month by joining DNA for Free. http://tinyurl.com/yyg5ohn #
- RT: @ChristianPF is giving away an iPod Touch! – RT to enter to win… http://su.pr/2LS3p5 #
- 74 inch armspan and forearms bigger than my biceps. No, I don't button my shirt cuffs. #
- RT @deliverawaydebt Money Hackers Network Carnival #111 – Don't Hassel the Hoff Edition http://bit.ly/9BIAvE #
- @bargainr What would it take to get you to include me in the personal-finance-bloggers list? #
- Working on a Penfed application to transform my worst interest rate into my best. #
- Gave the 1 year old pop rocks for the first time. Big smiles. #
- @Netflix @Wii disc works well and loads fast. Go, go gadget movie! #
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.
The Secret to Fearless Change
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
You never will get where you’re going
If you never get up on your feet
Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowing
A fast walking man is hard to beat
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
If you want to change your direction
If your time of life is at hand
Well don’t be the rule be the exception
A good way to start is to stand
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
If I want to change the reflection
I see in the mirror each morn
You mean that it’s just my election
To vote for a chance to be reborn
Side Hustle: The Garage Sale Preparation
We had a garage sale last week, as a wrap-up to the April 30 Day Project. We got rained out halfway through the first day of our 3-day sale, but we still managed to clear $1500. We held the sale in our neighbor’s garage because it had more space and better visibility.
Wednesday night, while carrying boxes over, I missed the step to their property from our driveway and crashed while carrying three boxes. That’s a twisted ankle and a bleeding knee. Naturally, while I’m hopping and swearing, everyone is concerned that I’m okay. The worry-warts. Anyway, it hurt, so we stopped setting up while we still had a few boxes left in the basement.
[ad name=”inlineleft”]Thursday morning, I decided to show them all. At 5:30AM, before anybody else is strongly considering the possibility of maybe thinking about getting ready to hit the snooze button, I decided to get the rest of the boxes ready. They’d all wake up, worried about how I’m feeling, asking if I’m to stiff to carry boxes. The best way to show them they don’t need to worry would be to have all of the boxes dealt with before they woke up. So I started. Up and down the stairs, with a stiff, twisted ankle, gloating to myself about how tough I was…BOOM, down the stairs. I was on my back, sliding down the stairs. I caught a stair-tread in the small of my back and another on the point of my tailbone. Mommy?
After I stopped twitching on the floor at the base of the stairs, I managed to get the last of the boxes ready. Instead of sympathy, I spent the rest of the weekend getting asked if I needed an inflatable doughnut to sit on. There are places I’d prefer not to have bruised.
Unpacking the boxes made me glad that everything was priced. We spent 6 weeks going through our entire house–every room, every dresser, every drawer–to eliminate the clutter. As something went into a box, it got priced, so we didn’t have to do it all at the last minute. That is the most important time-saving step for a garage sale. Price it as you pack it. You don’t want to waste hours pricing stuff while tripping over potential customers.
Another preparation tip to do early: Find tables! Ask around. You’d be surprised at who has a dozen folding tables collecting dust in his basement. It’s better to borrow that to rent. The best price I found was $17.50 to rent an 8′ X 30″ table for a week. We didn’t have to do that, but we thought we would have to. I borrowed a few, found a few, and built a few out of sawhorses.
The week before the sale, we placed an ad in the paper. When I placed the ad, the paper called to suggest we change it from running the weekend before to running just the days of the sale. I agreed, to a point, but their Sunday circulation is miles ahead of the weekday circulation, so why pay to run an ad nobody will see on Thursday? I ran it Sunday through Tuesday, because I wanted the Sunday ad and we got 3 consecutive days in the price. Did I actually know better than the paper’s sales-weasel? Who knows? I think I made the right decision.
The Sunday before the sale, I posted an ad on Craigslist. Interesting fact: little old ladies use Craiglist to plan their garage-sale adventures.
Two days before the sale, we made signs. Bright pink signs with brighter yellow starbursts. They were all simple. “Mega Sale! 8-5” followed by an arrow and our address. Simple, easy-to-read, and bright. The morning of the sale, after the ibuprofen kicked in, I put the signs up. When you make signs out of paper, always include a crossbar. It rained a lot the first day of the sale, so the signs wilted. The second morning, I went out with some duct tape and crossbars and fixed them all.
The day before the sale, we got cash and change. We had $50 in 1s and 5s and $25 in silver change. No pennies. Nothing was priced to make us need them.
The morning of the sale, we set up two canopy tents in the driveway and pulled the prepared-and-filled table out under them. We finished stacking as much as we could on the tables and called it “open”. There were a few boxes we couldn’t put out due to the rain. We simply ran our of room. At noon, $65 into the sale, we decided enough was enough and shut down–cold, wet, and miserable. Lunch and a nap made the day better.
Later, I’ll discuss the other parts of our successful sale.
Note: The entire series is contained in the Garage Sale Manual on the sidebar.
Update: This post has been included in the Money Hacks Carnival.
Living the XBox Life on an Atari Income
- Image via Wikipedia
At some point, everyone has “champagne wishes and caviar dreams.” Over the last 25 years, we’ve even been peddled the “you can have it all” myth from every direction, including the media and the government.
The truth is simple: you cannot have it all. You can have anything, but you can’t have everything. In order to have one thing, you have to give up something else. It’s a law of nature. If you have $5, you can either get a burger or an overpriced cup of coffee, but not both.
“But wait!” you shout, rudely interrupting the narrator, “I have a credit card. I can have both!”
Wrong.
And stop interrupting me.
If you have $5 and borrow $5 to get some coffee to go with your burger, you will eventually have to pay that money back with interest. You will have to give up a future-burger AND a flavor shot in your overpriced coffee.
Everything you buy needs to be paid for, some day.
If you have an Atari income, but insist on living the XBox life, you will wake up one day, buried in bills, forced to live the Commodore-64 life out of sheer desperation.
There is a solution.
Don’t get all XBox-y until you are making XBox money. That way, you’ll never have to worry about going broke tomorrow paying for the fun you had yesterday.
Even when you have an XBox income, ideally you’ll restrict yourself to living a Gamecube life, so you’ll be able to put some money aside to support future-you instead of constantly having to worry about your next paycheck.
What do you do?
You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your ******* khakis. -Tyler Durden
“What do you do?”
They typical answer is usually something like “I’m a computer programmer.” Or a DJ, a cop, a barista, a stripper, or whatever.
The answer is always given in the context of work. Is work the center of your life? Is your career the most important thing you have? For many, it is. Our jobs become a fully integrated piece of our identities. Even when we pay lip-service to putting our families first, all too often, we spend more of our waking hours working than actually living.
We spend 40, 50, 60 hours each week at our jobs. It’s natural for that to become a part of us.
We go too far.
I am not my job. I am not my career.
I am a father, a husband, a writer, a blogger, and more. I have hopes, dreams, and ambitions entirely apart from my career.
I hope you do, too.
The next time someone asks you what you do, try responding with your passion.
“I’m a parent.”
“I grow freaking awesome roses.”
“I travel whenever I can.”
“I obsess over politics.”
Leave the tradition work-centric script behind. You’re going to confuse the people who are expecting it. They think they are asking about your job and you are responding with something that truly matters to you.
What do you do?
