- 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 #
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?
Failed Side Hustle: Scrapping
Last week, the washing machine in our rental house died. It was older than I am, so this wasn’t really a surprise. It was one of just two appliances we didn’t replace before we moved the renters in.

My wife–bargain shopper that she is–found a replacement on Craigslist. We got it in, then left the dead washing machine next to the replacement, as a warning to any other appliance that thinks it can shirk its assigned work.
This morning, we went over to pull the corpse of our washing machine out of the basement.
Now, I am an out-of-shape desk jockey, my wife is considerably weaker than I am, and a 40 year old washing machine weighs more than 200 pounds.
In the basement.
I’m Superman. Although at one point, I did trade 10 years of the useful life of my right knee in exchange for not letting that thing tumble down the stairs on top of me.
What do you do with a dead washing machine?We could have the garbage company pick it up for $25. Or we could leave it on the curb and wait for some stinking scrapper to take it.
Or…we could join the dark side and scrap it ourselves.
For the uninitiated, scrappers are the people who drive around looking for fence-posts to steal out of other people’s yards, or cut the catalytic converters out of cars parked at park-and-ride bus stops, or steal all of the copper pipes out of your house while your on vacation. Sometimes, they get scrap metal from legitimate sources, I’ve heard.
We decided to go the legitimate route and take the washing machine to the scrap metal dealer in the next town over.
It was pretty easy. We pulled in with the washer in the trailer. A guy on a forklift pulled up and took it, then handed us a receipt to bring to the cashier. She paid us in cash, and we were on our way.
$7.50 richer.
200 pounds of steel, and we made less than $10.
There are people who pay their bills by recycling scrap metal, but I have no idea how. Driving around looking for things to scrap would seem to burn more gas than you’d make turning it in.
Some people scour Craigslist looking for metal things in the free section.
Some people have an arrangement with mechanics to remove their garbage car parts.
Some people are only looking to supplement their government handout checks enough to pay for cigarettes.
Us? We’re going to leave scrapping to the scavengers.
Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-07-17
- 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 #
Regret
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.
Annual Fees: Scam or Service?
Annual fees. For a lot of people, this is the worst possible thing about a credit card. That’s understandable, since paying interest is voluntary. If you don’t want to pay it, you just need to pay off your balance within the grace period. Annual fees, on the other hand, get paid, whether you want to or not, if the are a part of your credit card.
When I was 18, I applied for a credit card that raised an undying hatred of Providian in my heart. I was dumb and didn’t read the agreement before applying. When I got the card, I read the paperwork and nearly made a mess of myself. It had a $200 activation fee, a $100 annual fee, a $500 limit, a 24% interest rate, no grace period, and a anthropomorphic contempt for all things financially responsible.
Yes, you read that right. The day you activate the card, you are 3/5 maxed and accruing interest at rates that would make a loan shark blush like my grandma is a strip club. Instead of activating, I cancelled the card and ran away crying. It was a mistake but didn’t cost me anything.
In exchange for all of that, I got…nothing. The card offered no services of any kind in exchange for the annual fee.
On the other hand, I have a card with an annual fee right now. It’s $59 per year, but it offers value in exchange.
This card’s basic offering is a 2% travel rewards plan. With most of our spending on this card, we’ve managed to accumulate $400 of rewards, so far, counting the 25,000 bonus miles for signing up.
In addition, it offers 24 hour travel and roadside assistance. The roadside assistance itself will pay for the fee, because I think I’ll be canceling my AAA account after 16 years. The card’s plan isn’t as nice, but I haven’t been using the AAA emergency services for the past few years, anyway.
It extends the warranty on anything I buy. It includes car rental insurance and concierge service. Concierge service is sweet. Need reservations for dinner? Call the card. Need a tub of nacho cheese? Call the card. Need a pizza? Well, call Zappos.com.
All in all, the card is paying for itself a couple of different ways, so in this case, the annual fee is definitely worth it. I guess there’s a serious difference between Capital One Venture and Providan Screwyou.
How do you feel about annual fees? Love ’em, hate ’em, have a card with one?