No-Kill Finance

I’m the sort of guy who likes to have a road map.  I’ve never really thought of myself as such, but it’s true.  Hell, I’m the kind of guy who likes to memorize a road map…before I take on a task, I like to know exactly what to expect and exactly how to cope with anything that might go wrong.  I like to feel like an expert before I even get my feet wet.  I find, though, that people with the exact opposite tendency seem to have a lot more expertise in whatever subject I’m approaching.

Take Katie the Girlfriend, for example.  Where I’ve read several cookbooks in their entirety just to learn the theory behind cooking, she’s been known to roll her eyes at my technical approach and just cook, since she learned how to do so by actually, you know, doing so.  She doesn’t wait for a precisely preheated oven, she doesn’t use exact cooking times…she doesn’t even use exact measurements of ingredients.

Another example:  at the end of the winter (still arguably in progress given last night’s weather), I commenced in reading two gardening books.  While I was busy highlighting passages, taking notes, and sharing my newfound wisdom aloud, she was busy planting seeds, caring for seedlings, and transplanting plants outdoors.  Every time I would point out an error in her ways (“Um, the book says we shouldn’t move them outside for another few weeks”) she simply responds, “Oh well.  This is what I did last year and it worked fine.  We’ll start over if we need to.”  And I don’t know why this logic doesn’t sit better with me.  Clearly she’s more experienced than I am.  I, after all, am not the expert that wrote the book I’m reading.  Actually, I’m pretty dumb in comparison.

Enter tax season.  I don’t know a single thing about taxes.  I (I’m ashamed to admit) have never even prepared my own taxes before.  My dad has always taken care of them for me, and due to the fact that I’ve always been 600 miles away from my parents’ filing cabinet during tax season since before graduating high school, he’s never gotten around to teaching me how.

Now, since I’ve started finally growing up and putting effort into taking care of myself (a change that came far too late in my life), I simply won’t sit around and let other people do my taxes for me.  But, for some reason, I didn’t follow my usual routine and read 600 websites that instructed me on how to file…I just went in blind.

Why, with something so frivolous as grilling a pork chop, am I willing to read a 300-page cookbook, when I’m unwilling to read even a summary webpage in order to learn, for instance, what a 1040 form is?  I perplex myself sometimes…

One of the keys to my recent success at saving money is that I’ve had absolutely no time to do otherwise.  It’s helped me at times in the past, too…even when I was being less consciously responsible with my money, I found myself saving unintentionally by simple virtue of the fact that I didn’t have any free time to, say, go out to a movie.

Now more than ever I’m short on free time.  I’m in class four days a week and I work six (in order to keep full-time hours, therefore keeping myself medically insured).  My only day off is Sunday, and Katie and I usually make a point of devoting our Sundays to the inherently low-cost activity of lounging around the house and enjoying what little free time we share.

Of course, along with the glory of saving-money-whether-I-mean-to-or-not comes the stress of having little to no free time.  This is where the positive aspects of my busy schedule is often overshadowed by the negatives.  I hardly see my friends any more…not that I make as much effort as I could, but then again, I do legitimately prefer to spend my free time relaxing rather than going out and putting all that effort into being social (yes, I’m that big a hermit–it takes a lot of effort for me).

So, is saving money that I’d otherwise spend on maintaining my friendships really worth the 1.4% interest I get by putting those savings away in an account when the cost is a dwindling social life?  Unfortunately, until my final exam (four weeks and counting!!!), I don’t really have much of a choice.

I came across a post on Budgets Are Sexy about some guy in Vegas who, as a challenge to himself, voluntarily tried being homeless for 24 hours.  This reminded me of something from my past that merits discussing here.  (No, I was never homeless.  Sorry, but my hard-luck stories aren’t nearly that interesting.)

In the Spring of 2007, or thereabouts, I was very used to the idea of “too much month left at the end of the money,” as Dave Ramsey (and others before him, I’m sure) puts it.  As a fairly reckless 23-year-old, I’d regularly run out of cash long before my next paycheck was due, at which point I didn’t worry too much because I had a credit card to cover my costs.  (Let me say, too, that my “costs” included a fair amount of video games, tons of concerts, books, CDs, and far more alcohol than I should’ve been consuming on a daily basis.)

Eventually, I discovered that banks place a limit on how much credit they’ll extend to you.  Apparently it’s called a “credit limit.”  (Who knew?)  After this point, one must find real money to exchange for goods and services, as the fake plastic kind of money doesn’t work past, in my case, the $5,000 milestone.

I’ve since grown used to the idea that eating cheaply and limiting discretionary spending can stretch a paycheck far past a single pay period, but I recall one occasion in particular when, after an enjoyable week of drinking at bars, attending concerts, and buying books, music, and movies, I still had a full week to go before my next paycheck.

At the time, I was fortunate enough to have a fair selection of not-quite-expired nonperishable foods, which lasted several days…after which I had nothing.  I think there were about three bleak days left when my kitchen cabinets were finally empty.

I decided with a significant amount of shame that I could probably manage to “borrow” a meal a day from a charitable friend.  So I made some calls, penciled some lunch plans, and spent three days eating what probably amounted to about 500 calories a day.  I was shy about money and embarrassed about my irresponsibility, so I told a few minor lies and treated the money situation as though I just didn’t have any cash on me at the time…”Crap, I forgot to go to an ATM, would you mind covering me for a sandwich?”…not an uncommon back-and-forth exchange in most of my friendships, so I didn’t raise any suspicion and didn’t have to admit to my circumstances.  Dishonest, I know, but the thought of confronting my issues terrified me.

I will say that going [mostly] hungry wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.  If I recall correctly, I had all three days off from work, so I had the option to be sedentary (watched a lot of those movies I’d wasted my $5000 of credit on), and was able to keep my stomach filled with water…not to mention taking home leftovers and stretching a single Jimmy John’s sandwich into three tiny meals.  Certainly, I’d like to avoid ever being put in the situation again, but it wasn’t so intolerable that I broke down and begged a friend to loan me fifty bucks to get through the week.  Not that they wouldn’t have happily come through for me.

Anyway, that “not-quite-a-conclusion” to the fairly-long-winded story about my not very traumatizing financial trauma brings me to my point:  I have money now.  Money to spare.  I’m working the same low-wage job as I was then for what probably amounts to less pay (comparing my raises against inflation), but I have a positive net worth and plenty of cash reserves for rainy days.  And it’s great, not just because I know that I’m in a position to take care of myself, but also because I’m now in a position where, if one of my friends ever ran out of money, I could repay my karmic debt with actual cash.

That last broke day three years ago, when I was taking the last few bites from the sandwich with which my friend Rob had unknowingly made my day, I was too wrapped up in self-pity to really realize how great a thing friendship is, and how much more valuable that sandwich was than the $5 bill used to buy it.  I’d love to repay that sort of debt, and it’s an amazing feeling to know that, finally, three years later, I can.

I was going to sign on and write the first in a [long] series of posts about my weaknesses when it comes to saving and spending…but instead, I decided I’d found a trick for efficient use of money and resources.

See, the weakness that cost me $8 cash today is the same one that costs me $8 cash at least once every other week (though usually more often than that).  That weakness is Thai carry-out.  I’m absolutely insane about Thai food…favorite ethnic cuisine, hands down.  And I’m a loyalist to one restaurant, too…have been for five years now:  Thai Avenue in Uptown Chicago.

Now, I share a common suspicion about independently owned foreign cuisine restaurants:  that we open-minded, curious, yuppie and/or hipster and/or college-aged urban professionals aren’t trusted with the total experience of cuisine.  The lamb brains at the Indian place aren’t offered on the menu written in English; waitresses make sure you understand what you’re getting when you order lengua at a Mexican place; and, slightly more relevant to the post, Thai restaurants take it very easy on you when you order an already-hot dish “extra spicy.”

Having dined at and ordered from Thai Avenue regularly enough over a long enough period of time, the woman running the place (who I assume is the owner, though I’ve never clarified) has come to known me by name and to know my tastes in food.  Perhaps I’m imagining that there’s a steady pattern, but it seems that, over the last six months or so, my “Extra Spicy” pad kee mao has been getting progressively hotter and hotter, to the point where I might actually be getting the same thing a Thai transplant might get if he were to order the same thing.

Anyway, that’s a circuitous route to share a basic discovery I’ve made about myself:  spicy food is difficult to eat in large quantities.  I’m a bit of an over-eater.  I’ve been known to eat until I absolutely can’t fit another bite into my stomach, wait fifteen minutes, and have dessert.  This is particularly an issue with delicious and amazing food, such as that from Thai Avenue.  So, when I get my usual carry-out order of pad kee mao that could easily feed three people, I devour it in entirety over a small portion of my half-hour lunch break.

But it’s so easy to stretch one $8 meal into three or four when said meal is rapidly melting your tongue out of your intensely painful mouth.  One’s stomach fills quite quickly in such a situation, which extends the value of the food and limits the calorie intake.  (Note that I do not harbor any delusions that even a small amount of Thai food fits within the parameters of my diet.)

So, my advice for the next time you’re blowing ten bucks on Mexican instead of making a one-dollar sandwich at home:  order it spicy.  And the real spicy, not the sympathy-for-the-naive-white-guy kind of spicy.  You might get several [uncomfortable, painful, or even exruciating] meals for the price of one!

Let me first say that I’m resisting all urges to post an April Fool’s Day blog:  An excited report on how a Nigerian prince is going to give me part of his fortune, perhaps?  Or maybe something about the benefits of playing the lotto?  (Speaking of which, congratulations to my friend, whose scratch-off success this week could be an object of inspiration and envy to all get-rich-quick schemers.)

Anyway, I didn’t set any goals for March because I seem to have forgotten I even had a blog to record them in.  Had I, though, I would’ve passed them and then some, thanks to the month’s third paycheck.  As I discussed last night, I’ve now passed my initial $1000 goal for emergency savings, and have paid off my largest outstanding debt, which leaves:

April New Month’s Resolutions

1. Pay off sole remaining debt:  I still owe about $180 to a veterinary care credit, due in large part to the mighty Thor’s advancing age.  In addition to paying it off, I’d like to avoid acquiring any new debts as well.  I’ve spent so much energy paying off my credit card every month that I run up a weekly bill with my girlfriend, who does grocery shopping and the like while I’m at work.  I need to re-evaluate my expenses and work harder at keeping costs low so I’m not owing her more money than I have to give.  After all, my next 3-paycheck month won’t be ’til September…
2. Continue to save 25% of income after Resolution #1 is accomplished:  now that I’ve hit $1000 in my emergency fund, to which I’d been contributing 25%, I plan on diversifying my savings…10% to emergency savings, 10% to the retirement fund I hope to put toward a new IRA by the end of the year, and bits and pieces here and there into various other savings sub-accounts intended for vacation, a car (a theoretical car, to be purchased in the distant future…I love my public transit), and maybe some sort of absurd present to myself, like a new TV (yeah, right).
3. Continue to focus more on school than on blogging:  yes, it’s sad to embrace it so openly, but my spotty upkeep here at No-Kill Finance over the last month has been the product of my increased focus on schoolwork, which, no offense to my readers, is a lot more important in the long run.  I’ll try to set more realistic goals for myself (see Resolution #4) so I tune in more often, but I was getting a bit too obsessed with drafting new posts, reading peer blogs, and combing through Google Analytics data…a pointless pursuit when you only have 30 or 40 hits a day.  Simply by ignoring my blog, I have hugely increased my capacity to understand the big, confusing words my chemistry professor is rambling through during each lecture.
4. Blog twice a week:  most important in succeeding at this goal will be my acceptance of the fact that blogs don’t NEED to be 1000 words long.  In studying fiction writing, I was trained to write, re-write, re-write again, then walk away for a few hours and re-write again.  This method does not work well for someone with a limited amount of time to spend on writing.  Decreasing my weekly quota, and maybe lowering my standards a bit in terms of…not quality, just fine-tuning…I think I’ll be able to keep up.
5. Work out at least twice a week:  nothing to do with finance, I know, but I’ve gained about 15 pounds since starting this blog, and I feel like being healthier will motivate me in every other aspect of my life (more alert, more energetic, more willing to blog and maybe do a few crunches instead of eating chocolate and watching television).

So, I’ve had mixed success with my resolutions in the past months (March being a noted exception:  I succeeded at living up to all zero of my resolutions that month!), but I have a good feeling about April.  This morning, the sun is out, I’m well-caffeinated, and I officially only have one month of school left until summer vacation.  Spring is great!

Wanted to check in quickly before bedtime and describe the beauty of a 3-paycheck month.

I’m sure you’re all familiar with this phenomenon, but:  following a bi-weekly pay schedule, 2 months a year there are  3 paydays within a single month.  March is one of 2010’s 3-paycheck months for my pay schedule.

Admittedly, I haven’t investigated the long-term mathematical consequences of spending this money hastily, but nonetheless, I accomplished a lot this evening:

• I posted the final $159.40 into my emergency fund to reach the $1000 mark.
• I paid April’s rent and still have over $500 in my “rent” account (separate from my other various savings sub-accounts).
• I repaid the rather sizable (as in, say, half a grand) debt I owed my darling girlfriend.
• I managed, after all of this, to retain plenty of money to comfortably get me through to my next pay period.

All in all, a great success, and worth bragging about in my opinion…if I’m to brag, I wanted to remember to do it now.  (Ideally, I’ll be writing again tomorrow to celebrate “Happy New Month!”, but given my recent track record for blogging, I may forget totally.)

So, please forgive me for patting myself on the back so publicly, and try to have as good a night as I’ve had…I’m off to bed.

I’m not the sort of guy to loudly and angrily undertake stands against companies.  If a business or organization offends my principles somehow, I tend just to stop giving them my money.  I don’t write letters of protest; I just go ahead with my silent boycott.  So it has gone with companies as large as Wal-Mart (whose ruthless disregard for the interests of small business offends me deeply) and as small as the corner store by my old apartment (which I felt, since it was never open when I wanted a late night snack, did not deserve my money during daylight hours).

Add to the list the convenience shop in the student center at UIC.  In between classes today, I got the idea that buying a bag of Doritos was the right thing to do.  (Note:  I was wrong on two counts, as I am both on a budget and on a diet.)  Upon purchase, though, the cashier took my five dollars, gave me four in change, crumpled my receipt and threw it in the trash can behind the counter.

What?  That receipt doesn’t belong to the trash can.  It’s MINE.  I paid good money for it, and will need it when I go to record my expenses (I shudder to call Doritos an “expense”) at the end of the night.  It’s not your right to throw it away like some common piece of trash.

Oh well, UIC junk-food depository.  We had a good run, right?

But what’s even worse?  To top off the fact that I’m now being forced into boycotting my main on-campus Doritos source (which will seriously impair my ability to cheat on my diet/budget), I’m going to be known as the jerk who asks, before every transaction, “Can I keep the receipt?  I’m on a tight budget.”

…when buying overpriced snacks.