About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag
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March 13, 2009
And here’s what’s been rattling around upstairs:
1) Want to save more. How can I save more? (Assuredly, this period of binge-saving will be followed by a period of purge-spending. Just came off that spell a couple days ago.)
Thanks to the recent spate of car activity, monthly expenses have come down by $500. That‘s why the expense fund seems so robust. That can be directed to savings right away. What else can I cut out?
2) If the period of unemployment lasts through, say, the end of the year, I’ll have missed out a lot on retirement contributions. The goal is to have a lot of cash in the cushion, but what if some of that cash were stashed? Not too much of it, but an uptick in contributions seems like a good idea. It’s the opposite of DCA – investing in large lumpy sums for the next three months in anticipation of none at all from July through December, but I think it’s better than nothing at all.
3) Speaking of stashing, what about diversification? Ought I revisit the trad/Roth IRAs? There’s still time for 08 and 09 contributions.
During this period of uncertainty, cash certainly reigns (and yes, I still want my 50K of savings for lack of a more secure position) but there’s always an itch to earn more than sub-2% interest rates.
Grocery store scores:
Last night’s trot ’round to the Fresh ‘n’ Easy turned up a 4-pack of “snacking apples,” 4 for $0.75 marked down from $2.89. They were a bit over a pound, so that’s not a bad per pound price.
Also, the red russets were 3 lbs for $2.88. On the pricier side until checkout revealed a $1.88 price tag.
Certainly not a comprehensive shop, but it was a quickie run, primarily for a fruit for lunch tomorrow. Meant to grab a couple of the monster-sized burritos at $2 per, they looked to be at least 1.5 pounds but I couldn’t be sure they would last the weekend for next week’s meals and I’m not sure that I wanted them for the weekend. All told, never came near to using the $2 off coupon. (Minimum purchase, $10).
March 12, 2009
Under what circumstances would you feel comfortable accepting monetary assistance?
I was recently asked, why, if the benefactor was willing and able, can I not accept help? That question meant monetary help, and that’s a critical difference from all other kinds of help, so that’s the part we’re going to address today.
During a conversation about the economy, the state of my career, and rather justifiable (in my mind) anxiety that I might be flat broke 12 months from the date I’m laid off, this rather potent question was asked. And I floundered in answering.
Because I can’t stand the taste of humble pie? Because I’ve not asked for money since I was 17? Because if I can’t stand on my own, I would still like to have my pride? In this last reason, I’m staunchly my father’s daughter, even despite the grief that’s brought me in his practice of it.
The truth is, it’s all of that and more. It’s that I would only think of myself as “needing help” if I were in truly dire straits. If I couldn’t afford the rent, the bills, the groceries. I wasn’t brought up specifically with this particular insane independent streak, but I’ve developed the mindset that it’s simply unfathomable to think that I would ask for money if I weren’t at the end of my resources. Arriving at that point, however, means that there’s a whole world of guilt and uncertainty involved. I wouldn’t need small sums of money, it’s not just spotting me a tenner for lunch. It’s rent, it’s gas, it’s insurance, it’s big money.
In my personal experience with money and people, you cannot rely on others for your basic needs: you stand or die alone. That’s not true for everyone, though, and I realize that from the outside, it looks like arrogance. (At least one friend has interpreted it that way.) After all, I always step up and help others to the best of my abilities. It may not take the form of cash but it’s still help. How then, do I lack such faith in good people and insist on such isolationist responsibility?
I’m casting about for a better understanding of the mentality that allows me to be liberal in my giving, and highly conservative in my getting. Does this attitude need adjusting? If so, how do I remain true to my bootstrapping principles, while recognizing when it’s appropriate to accept assistance? Or is the second fear, that it’s a slippery slope from asking for help when needed to asking for help all the time, justified?
*Note: One rather astute friend pointed out another way to look at it: if asking for and accepting help is so foreign or unfathomable, then I can trust that I will do everything in my power to prevent that situation from developing. At least there’s that.
**Another Note: Perhaps I’m uncomfortable with having to be on the receiving end of this conversation.
March 11, 2009
Just because the act of writing supposedly helps commit things to memory, or at least to the internet server for later access, let’s make this official:
Life would be easier if I owned a nice little can opener. Not that using the grungy, rust-caked, creaky can opener in our “kitchen” at work will kill me outright, but if a slow death-by-food-and-other poisoning can be avoided with a cute gadget, I’m all for it. And if it can’t be cute, then clean, functional, and RA- friendly are acceptable attributes.
Life would include a heck of a lot more mac ‘n’ cheese, and by default be better, if I owned a cheese grater. It’s just so hard to decide between graters, slicers, grater/slicer, 6 in one graters, etc. They all seem like a good idea. A fine, cheese-enabling idea.
**I’m getting forgetful in my current state of mind: it’s been almost a week and I still haven’t submitted a new FSA claim form for the latest batch of sickie supplies.
March 10, 2009
Most of them were for the weekend, but one was specifically for tonight.
Tonight, at 9 pm, a walking expedition to the local Fresh ‘n’ Easy was scheduled. Armed with a $2 off $10 or $5 off $20 coupon, a foray into the after-hours discounted produce and possibly other meal components was meant to bear much fruit and even veggies for the lunches of tomorrow and tomorrower.
As we all know, I don’t like the scurvy.
Instead, held captive by Dr. Gregory House on Hulu.com and the ice-cold (45-degrees for the layperson who knows of winter) winds, huddled in the room stayed I. No fresh bought comestibles, no provender, for my lunch tomorrow.
Luckily, leftovers shall be the saving of me. There’s some meatloaf from Sunday’s lunch that will serve admirably. Perhaps also a can of corn. Perhaps I’ll be that adventurous. Better luck tomorrow.
Sometimes, I think I’ll never understand my parents. In some ways, they seem just like kids.
Our lines of parenthood and daughterhood have become blurred, redrawn, fuzzed over, drawn again and scuffed up. That happens with most relationships, I think, over time, so I’m not worried that it’s happened. It’s just a little whelming to try and prepare for the future only to hear my dad tell me that they’ll be fine at this rather subsistence level of living because, “Everyone else does it, and what would we do with luxury anyway?”
Uh, having basic health needs met in a timely manner is a luxury? Having to wait 4-6 months to have your general physician get back to you about rescheduling a follow-up is acceptable? Therefore, long term care insurance is a luxury? Maybe I’ve become spoiled, but my idea of basic health insurance does not mean the same thing as it does to them. They’ve become accustomed to the kind of care available to the indigent, and I don’t want that to be the rest of their lives.
Aside from that, let’s be honest here: the insurance is helpful to me and my sanity. We come as a pair, you don’t want us separated. As I’ve pointed out before, my dad is mom’s primary caretaker. I bring in the income. So if anything happens to dad? This already precarious house of cards come tumblin’ down.
I get that he doesn’t want me to be paying out more money, I get that he doesn’t want me “risking” any more. But I don’t get the logic of “don’t create a cushion for later on by spending a small amount now.” Talk about penny-wise, pound-foolish. Either he’s simply lost all perspective and today’s dollar is worth way more than tomorrow’s ten (and sanity, and breathing space) or he just doesn’t want to quit smoking.
At this point, I just hope it’s the latter.
Related reading links:
Lazy Man and Money’s Helping Parents Cope with Damage to Their Retirement Nest Egg
March 8, 2009
Shouldn’t be bloggin’, I know, it’s just boring waiting for Shutterfly to upload the darned pictures.
The shower went off swimmingly, I think, but I couldn’t tell from the vantage point of organizing and decorating and shuttling gifts.
She got some really cool stuff, like two Boppy pillows. She can stack them for sleeping “on” her stomach, or tall folks can stack ’em when they hold the baby.
I’m so glad a girlfriend prebaked a batch of cupcakes, everyone decorated a few and ate most of the rest. There won’t be any left for the dudes who’ll be coming back from their Man Expedition, but that’s just too bad!
I hope everyone else had a great Sunday! I’m ready for a nap.
March 6, 2009
So@24’s post from a while back about family cracked me up.
I don’t know if your family is the same way, but mine takes all kinds of liberties when it comes to the subject of family and marriage. By that I mean, every possible bit of advice and nosiness that can be mustered is brought into play like a cannonade of good intentions. The latest?
Eldest Auntie: R, how old are you this year?
R: …. 26…..
EA: What? 27? 28?
R: [just opening my mouth to respond]
EA: Yes yes, ok, that’s old enough, you can get married now. Don’t wait until you’re 30, you’re old enough now! Don’t wait until you’re 30, y’hear?
R: ……. But ……. I ……. *sigh* [shake head in defeat] Yes, auntie.
Because really, what can you honestly say? And besides that, what’s the point? My family, like Dalmatians, can just go selectively deaf. There’s no point in responding.
