This is a conversation between me and my future self, if my financial path wouldn’t have positively forked 2 years ago. The transcript is available here.
What would your future self have to say to you?
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.
Teaching My Child about Money in a Way I Was Not Taught
When I was in high school and working 15 to 20 hours a week, my mom gave me free rein to use the money I earned as I would like. Actually, she said nothing to me about saving for college or putting some money into savings.
When I had friends who complained that they had to put away some of their earnings, I commiserated with them. How unfair of their parents to make them save some of their money! They worked hard for their money, often at crappy part-time jobs. They deserved to spend the money any way they saw fit.
The way I saw it, why save for college? According to financial aid rules, if the student has any savings, she would have to use the majority of it to pay for college. How unfair. To add insult to injury, if prospective college students have some savings, they would qualify for less financial aid, which often meant fewer student loans.
The injustice.
Yes, it was better to spend my hard earned money than save it and be penalized.
No one told me differently. In fact, many people in my family agreed with me and encouraged me to buy a used car to get to and from my job. Of course, I paid the loan payments for the car, the gas I used and my insurance out of money from my job. That was a responsible use of money, but I also went out to eat with friends, a lot. At 16, I was going out to eat with my friends twice a week at least.
However, my plan worked perfectly. When I went to college, I didn’t have to use any of my hard earned cash. No, not me, because I hadn’t saved anything. Instead, I left college with nearly $20,000 in student loan debt. I took two years off and paid down as much student loan debt as I could, getting it down to about $8,000, but then I went to graduate school and took on more student loan debt. I graduated with nearly $25,000 in debt total. I am still paying on it today, 13 years later.
Now that I am the parent, I am one of those “awful” parents who makes her kids save. My son knows when he gets his allowance, some goes to save, some goes to donate, and some goes to spend. True, it makes me cringe when he uses his spend money on little trinkets like temporary tattoos, stickers, and gum, but I keep silent. He did the work to earn the money, and he can spend it as he likes. However, I am inflexible with saving; that money must be set aside. When he goes to college, I expect that he will have to use the majority of that money. Rather than seeing it as a waste, I see it as an important component of his financial education. Spending his money to pay a portion of his college education will hopefully make him take college more seriously.
Meanwhile, I have already begun having chats with him about money, spending, and budgeting. He watches his dad and I work hard to pay down our debt with gazelle intensity. He sees me use a calculator at the grocery store to see how much our groceries will be.
Ultimately, he will make his own financial decisions as he grows up, but I plan to teach him throughout these important years so that even if he turns into a spendthrift, he will have a firm financial understanding to revert to as he ages. While my mom taught me how to stretch money further, she never taught me how to save; I hope saving is a lesson my son takes with him throughout his adulthood.
How do you teach your kids about money management?
Melissa writes at Fiscal Phoenix where she encourages people to rise from the ashes of their financial mistakes as she and her husband are doing.
Fall From Grace
When you accumulate a certain level of debt, it feels like you’re wading through an eyeball-deep pool of poo, dancing on your tiptoes just to keep breathing. Ask me how I really feel.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that I’m in debt. We have gone over this before. The story isn’t one of my proudest, so I’ve never talked much about how it happened.
Our debt was entirely our fault. We messed up and dug our own poo-pool. There were no major medical bills, no extended unemployment, just a strong consumer urge and an apparent need for instant gratification. Delayed gratification wasn’t a skill I’d considered learning. The idea of it was a thoroughly foreign concept. Why wait when every store we visited offered no payments/no interest for a year? We didn’t give much thought to what would happen when the year was up.
We got married young. We bought our house young. We started our family young. We did all of that over the course of two years, well before we were financially ready. Twenty years old, we had excellent credit and gave our credit reports a workout. Credit was so easy to get. By the time I was 22, we had a total credit limit more than twice our annual income. We fought so hard to keep up with the Joneses. A new pickup, a remodel on our house. Within a month of paying off the truck, I got a significant raise and rushed out to buy a new car.
Every penny that hit the table was caught in a net of lifestyle expansion. I was bouncing on my tiptoes.
Four months into my new car payment, I was laid off. There’s me, hoping for a snorkel. A week later, we found out our son was going to be a big brother. Our pool had developed a tide.
We killed the cable and cut back on everything else and…managed. Money was tight, but we got by. I got a new job, but had we learned any lessons? Of course not. We got a satellite dish, started shopping the way we always had. Times were good, and could never be bad. We had such short memories.
Fast forward a couple of years. Baby #3 is on the way while baby #2 is still in diapers. Daycare was about to double. Daddy started to panic. I built a rudimentary budget and realized there was no way to make ends meet. There just wasn’t enough cash coming in to cover expenses. That’s when I made my first frugal decision: I quit smoking. That cut the expenses right to the level of our income. It was tight, but doable.
There was still one serious problem. Neither one of us could control our impulse shopping. For a time, I was getting packages delivered almost every day. It was never anything expensive, but it was always something. Little things add up quickly.
Last spring, I realized we couldn’t keep going like that. I started looking into bankruptcy. Somehow, we managed to toss ourselves into the deep end of the pool. We had near-perfect credit and no way to maintain it.
While researching bankruptcy, I found our life preserver. We put together a budget. We cut and…it hurt. It’s taken a year, but every bill we have is finally being tracked. We have an emergency fund and we are working towards our savings goals. It hasn’t been an easy year, but we are making progress. We’ve eliminated 15% of our debt and opened out budget to include some “blow money” and an occasional date night. We are always looking for ways to decrease our bottom line and increase the top line. Most important, we are actually working together to keep all of our expenses under control, with no hurt feelings when we remind ourselves to stay on track.
We are finally standing flat-footed, head and shoulders above the poo.
Update: This post has been included in the Carnival of Personal Finance.
Thrifty Sucks – The 30 Day Compact
- Image by waving at you via Flickr
During the month of September, we went on a 30-day compact. We decided to avoid buying anything new for 30 days. The plan was, if we needed to buy something, we’d hit a pawn shop, a thrift store, or Craigslist. Obviously, food and consumable hygiene products were exempt from the rules. I’m not going to stink or starve for an experiment like this. Ideally, at the end of the month, our discretionary budget would reflect our extra thriftiness, leaving us a couple of hundred extra dollars at the end of the month.
Great plan.
I found out a few days ago that we actually made it 3 days. Grr. That’s when the credit card bill came. Double-Grr.
All in all, that one slip isn’t a big deal. We also had a few presents we had to buy for a couple of birthdays and one wedding. Also not a big deal, since we have a budget for gifts. It may have been against the rules, but what were we going to do, drink the free beer at the wedding without bringing a gift? How rude.
So we had a few slips. That’s not bad, considering exactly how well “consumer” describes us.
Avoiding retail shopping is a lot harder than it sounds. We have everything we need, so on paper, it should have been simple. We didn’t need anything, so we wouldn’t have to buy anything.
Like I said, great plan.
There were a few books released this month that I have been anxiously awaiting, like Monster Hunter:Vendetta and Chris Guillebeaus’s book, The Art of Non-Conformity. They have both had to wait. In the next few days, I will be buying both of these books. That makes this project very similar to an inverse “Cash for Clunkers” program. Instead of moving spending that would have happened anyway to an arbitrary time-frame, I moved spending out of an arbitrary time-frame, but the spending is still happening.
My wife has an admitted shopping addiction. This project caused a rather…explosive…discussion this week. Not-so-coincidentally, that happened the day we got the credit card bill. Note to self: “What the heck is this?” is not the right way to start a conversation. Oops.
We had 30 days of trying to avoid the retail trap, and kicking ourselves when we slipped. What did we learn?
1. We are big damned consumers. We are so much better than we used to be, but so far off of where we’d like to be.
2. Target is infinitely more convenient that Craigslist. We may pay a small premium for that convenience, but generally, it’s worth it.
3. When you forget to budget for a speeding ticket that needs to be paid 5 months after you received it, it does not matter if you saved some of your discretionary budget by not shopping retail that month.
4. When you open a credit card bill and get upset, be prepared to get clubbed over the head with #3. Repeatedly.
This month, I’m going to do my best to learn a new language. I’m having a hard time deciding which one. Spanish would be most practical. Norwegian would let me read some of the artwork on my Grandma’s wall, but Italian sounds like the most fun.
Nothing like waiting until the last minute.
How to Build a Business on Cannibalism
Last week, my wife posted on Facebook that she was frustrated with her job hunt.
An hour later, she got a call from someone she hadn’t talked to in 10 years. He wanted to talk about a great business opportunity. He wouldn’t say what it was, but wanted to bring a friend over to discuss it.
Fast forward to last night.
The night my wife agreed to meet with the old friend.
The meeting we forgot about.
So we invited our friend and his friends into the house. We sat down at the dining room table to hear the pitch. Our friend is just getting started so his “friend” delivered the pitch.
While I was waiting for him to explain the business, he was showing us pictures of he and his wife traveling around the country.
Instead of explaining the product, he asked about our most expensive dreams.
Instead of telling us how the marketing worked, he mentioned something about utilizing the internet–and i-Commerce–and talked about changing our buying habits.
Instead of showing us a product, he talked about driving volume and building a team.
There was nothing concrete, but a lot was said to ride on the dreams of people who are frustrated with their income or are living paycheck-to-paycheck.
More than an hour into the presentation, it was revealed that the “product” is a buying portal to allow people to buy Amway products from your personal Amway store.
Freaking Amway.
How do they find your personal Amway store, you ask? I don’t know, because you are supposed to be your own best customer. You make money by buying the products you use anyway, but buy them from Amway. For example, there’s the $10 toothbrush, the $16 baby wipes, or the $38 toilet paper.
For six frickin’ rolls.
Seriously, this stuff is meant to touch my butt once. I don’t need it made from pressed gold.
As for the visual…you’re welcome!
So I sell a kidney to buy enough toilet paper to keep my nether bits clean for a month and I get one point for every $3 I spend. I figure that’s about 50 points per month, given the foot traffic our bathrooms see.
If I hit 100(I think, he didn’t leave the paperwork) points, I get 6%(again, I wasn’t taking notes) back at the end of the next month. For the sake of the math, I’m going to double the number of butts in my house. 100 points means I need to spend $300. That’s 47 rolls of toilet paper. In exchange for this $300–and on top of gold-embroidered silk I now get to flush down the toilet–I’ll earn $18.
I know exactly how much toilet paper I buy right now. Amazon sends me a 48 roll package every other month for $31.42, shipped.
To simplify, Amway is offering me the ability to spend $300 to get $18 plus $31.42 worth of toilet paper. I’m supposed to end my financial worries by turning $300 into $50 every month.
Yay!
[Note to self: Demolish Amway’s business model by starting a company that will let people turn $200 into $50, without the nasty overhead of stocking overpriced crap. A 33% increase in efficiency will make me rich!]
But wait, say the imaginary Amway proponents that I hope aren’t frequenting my site, you’re forgetting the most important part!
Oh really?
There’s also a thing called a “segmented marketing team”. To the rest of the multi-level marketing world, this is known as your downline. If you can con your family and friends into turning their $300 into $50 every month, then help them con their family and friends into turning $300 into $50 every month, you’ll get rich! Amway has apparently figured out a way to share a small fraction of their 600% markup with their victims to make them feel like it’s a business opportunity instead of a robbery.
If I get 9 people in my “business team” and each of them build out their team, I get the coveted title of “Platinum Master” or whatever. All I have to do is sell the souls of 72 people and I can make a ton of money! If each member of my downline turns $300 into $50, Amway will get $18,000. In exchange for delivering those souls, the “average” Platinum Ninja makes about $4500 per month. That’s about $12,000–free and clear–for Amway.
When your business model consists entirely of your sales force doing all of the buying and consuming, it’s not a business model, it’s cannibalism.
