There comes a time when it’s too late to tell people how you feel.
There will come a day when the person you mean to talk to won’t be there. Don’t wait for that day.
“There’s always tomorrow” isn’t always true.
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
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:
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.
Life may be like a box of chocolates, but it is certainly not a game of Sorry, where one person wins at the expense of all others. It is entirely possible for everyone to win in most voluntary interactions.
For example, if my company gives me a $10,000 raise, it would seem like I win and they lose. I’m getting more money, at the expense of their bottom line, right? Maybe. But what if that raise spurs me on to make an extra $100,000 for the company? That makes it a good investment and a Win/Win scenario.
When I’m dealing with one of my side-business customers or an advertiser, I’m definitely pushing for the Win/Win. Of course I want them to pay me as much as possible, but I also want their repeat business, which won’t happen unless they walk away happy. If I insisted that each of my customers pay the absolute top dollar, I may come out ahead in the short-term, but what about next month or next year? It’s much better for both of us if we can find a happy middle ground.
The four basic forms of interaction are:
1. Win/Lose. This is where I win and you lose. Haha! The problem with a Win/Lose is that the loser isn’t going to come back to play next year. He’s not happy and he’ll probably tell his friends how unhappy he is. This is also the interaction that people are mistakenly assuming when they complain about excessive executive interaction. The CEO is making a million dollars while the folks on the assembly line are stuck with $15 per hour? It’s entirely possible that, if the CEO weren’t doing his job, nobody else would have one. That is, like it or not, Win/Win.
2. Lose/Win. This is where I give up everything, hoping you’ll eventually throw me a bone. It’s a cowardly interaction that won’t work well when dealing with someone playing #1. I’ll keep giving, you’ll keep taking. You go home happy, I go home sore. When it’s done, I won’t do business with you ever again.
3. Lose/Lose. Nobody wins. We fight so hard to get what we want, forcing the other side to give up as much as possible, while they are doing the same. At the end of the day, the hatred is flowing so strong, there’s no possibility of a relationship.
4. Win/Win. Yay! Everybody wins! Everybody’s happy! This will involve some compromise, but hopefully we can reach the happy middle ground where we are both smiling. If I’m looking for a deal that involves you paying me $1000 per month, is it better for me to push to get exactly that, or let myself get talked down to $750? If the $1000 is more than you can afford, so you quit with hard feelings after one month, the ongoing $750 is much, much better for both of us. It is actually in my greedy self-interest to give up that 25% to build our relationship.
Winning doesn’t have to be done at the expense of others. If you do it right, we all win.
I’m sick of working my day job.
I’m sick of working my side hustles.
I’m sick of working.
To make up for all of that, I’m going to launch a new business. My business model is guaranteed to generate $1,000,000 in revenue the first month.
Seriously.
It’s going to be a father/son enterprise, and to prove that the business model scales, I’m going to help him generate another $1,000,000 in revenue the first month.
This plan is infinitely replicable and infinitely scalable. Steal my business plan and you can have a million dollar business, too.
Ready?
First, my son is going to sell his XBox for $100. Yes, he’s taking a loss, but that’s the cost of getting into the business. Oh, and he’s selling it to me.
$100 for him.
Second, I’m going to sell it back to him for $100.
$100 for me.
He sells it to me for $100.
$200 for him.
I sell it to him for $100.
$200 for me.
If we do this just 9,998 more times, we’ll have generated $1,000,000 in revenue. At 1 minute per transaction, I figure we can both be running million dollar business after just 2 weeks of full-time work.
That’s a two-week vacation every single month.
Phenomenal plan.
Some of the haters are going to explode with comments about “profit” and “expenses”, but I don’t care. Cash flow is king. They can sit at home and whine about their $50,000 jobs while I’m making millions. Sure, my profit (the money leftover after expenses are taken from the revenue) is on the low side, but I can make that up in volume.
Millions.
If I do this every month, I’ll be sitting on a $12,000,000 business. I bet I can sell that for 5 times my annual profits.
Any buyers out there?
Any entrepreneurs ready to copy my business model?
Anybody have a better grasp of the difference between cash flow and profit than I do?
How much would you pay for a kiss from the world’s sexiest celebrity?
That was the focus of a recent study that I can’t find today. There is no celebrity waiting in the wings to deliver the drool, and the study doesn’t name which celebrity it is. That’s an exercise for the reader.
This was a study into how we value nice things.
The fascinating part of the study is that people would be willing to pay more to get the kiss in 3 days than they would to get the tongue slipped immediately.
Anticipation adds value.
Instant gratification actually causes us to devalue the object of our desire.
This goes well beyond “Will you respect me in the morning?”
The last time I talked about delayed gratification, it was in the context of my kids. That still holds true. Kids don’t value the things that are handed to them.
The surprising–and disturbing–bit is that adults don’t, either. If I run out to the store to buy an iPad the first day I see one, I won’t care about it nearly as much as if I spend a week or two agonizing over the decision.
The delay alone adds to the perceived value. The agony turns the perceived value into gold.
If I spend a month searching for the perfect car, the thrill of the successful hunt adds less value than the time it took to do the hunting.
Here’s my frugal tip for today: Delay your purchases. While it may not actually save you any money, you will feel like you got a much better deal if you wait a few days for something you really want.