Yesterday was my first waiting tables at my new job. Working for this company has been an absolute dream so far, and I've been so eager not to disappoint. I super appreciate that they wanted to fast-track me...though putting me on the floor for the first time on a holiday was maybe not the most kind thing anyone has ever done for me.
A simple communication breakdown at my first table (not between me and my diners, kitchen, or even manager, but with an over-harried and easily stressed expo), basically changed my name to mud for the rest of the day until my manager had time to review my orders and see that the issue wasn't entirely my fault. I have a "fantastic" rule at work: so long as I'm clocked in, everything is fantastic, because being bummed out does not a good server make. I managed to keep it together until I clocked out and counted my tips. Then I shed a few tears in the truck, came home to a long soak in the bathtub, and slept for twelve hours.
Then I woke up this morning and re-counted my tips to record income for tabulating. That's when I realized that somehow, someway, I seriously miscounted my tips last night. By $100. As in, I made more a hundred dollars more than I thought I did.
Snap. This cheered me up considerably. I hate to be that shallow, but there is a big difference between almost making $4/hour and making over $12/hour. So the job is back on dream status. This is after many hours of agonizing over everything from my decision to get the job in the first place, to staying in Austin at all, deciding to learn to build and play guitars, and once again making the attempt to stick around and help my family out. Money is such a weird thing, and I resent its ability to change my mood so radically.
Of course, the plan right now is to make money. There isn't a lot of room for deviation from this plan, and it's a relief to know there doesn't have to be.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
New Co-op
Darling and I were so disappointed by the co-op visit last night. It was a cool place with a lot of promise, but totally not our environment. The only consolation was an e-mail from another co-op I contacted the other day, one I knew would no longer have a vacancy but with whom I wanted to connect.
La Re was founded when Darling and I were out of town, but it's totally unique and amazing nature has revolutionized my personal concept of cooperative living. It's a twenty-unit apartment building which houses around 30-35 people of all ages and trades. Drawing the best from the co-housing movement, La Re offers members total privacy and autonomy: a two bedroom unit with personal kitchen and bathroom, while maintaining the communal aspect of cooperative living. Rent covers all utilities besides electricity (if you ever survive a Texas Summer, you will understand the importance of personal electricity/air conditioning choices), four meals a week, and staple groceries. Members maintain raised-bed gardens, manage the affairs of home-ownership, and meet once a twice a week for a potluck meal and decision-making jam. Free from the burden of supporting a professional landlord and/or leasing company, the prices are absurdly reasonable, cheaper than some studio apartments I've seen advertised in the same area.
Units will be available in late Summer. Darling and I should be shoe-ins. I think we'll go to a meeting on Sunday to apply. That should give us two months to save up, which is more than enough time to cover first month's rent, the deposit, and basic furnishings at garage sale prices! Heck, we might just finish paying off debt in the meantime and go to a couple of dental appointments.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Yesterday I contacted a co-op about a potential bedroom with attached bathroom. I wasn't getting my hopes up, but when I received a response within twenty minutes of sending that first e-mail inviting me to come to dinner and meet other prospective housemates, I let myself get a little excited. Darling and I are going to check out the house tonight and I'm getting absolutely giddy. The house is about the same size as my previous co-op, offers similar amenities such as utilities and groceries, and is significantly cheaper. It's also located on West Campus, which is about as central as can be without living at the governor's mansion.
I hadn't been seriously considering moving into another cooperative, mostly because my previous experience with communal living was so fantastic that I didn't think Darling could ever hope for anything nearly as awesome. Which is a bizarre decision-making process. Every landlord experience we've ever had was absolutely terrible, whereas our one cooperative-living adventure was an absolute delight...so we opted for more landlord so as to not mar our perfect communal record...good job, brain. Thanks for looking out for me.
If all goes well Darling and I will have a new home in little over a week. And it will be affordable, something I'd pretty much given up on altogether!
Last night was my last training shift at my new job. I'm scheduled to wait tables next week, and, even better, it's only a four-day work week. So I should have more money and more free time for the rest of May and June! I think I can handle that :) I'll never get over how smoothly things are going at work. R and I are even working well together despite the rough schedule. Our sleep cycles are both just naturally wonky, which means that when I get home at midnight we're both up for putting a few hours in at the shop. I didn't get to sleep until after four this morning, but we made a little progress on the next set of amps.
Speaking of making progress: tomorrow morning I set up at my first market in central Austin. As with everything else in my life right now, I'm torn between being out of my mind with trepidation and absolutely dumbfounded by my good luck. I never thought I'd weasel into this particular market, and it's actually one of the more affordable ones I've discovered! This is IT for us; if we're going to do well anywhere, it's at this venue.
Is everything seriously coming together? I think it might be! May has been so much more awesome than April, I can't freaking wait for June: regular art fairs, four more instruments in the collection, a fantastic and decent paying job, and a new home!
I hadn't been seriously considering moving into another cooperative, mostly because my previous experience with communal living was so fantastic that I didn't think Darling could ever hope for anything nearly as awesome. Which is a bizarre decision-making process. Every landlord experience we've ever had was absolutely terrible, whereas our one cooperative-living adventure was an absolute delight...so we opted for more landlord so as to not mar our perfect communal record...good job, brain. Thanks for looking out for me.
If all goes well Darling and I will have a new home in little over a week. And it will be affordable, something I'd pretty much given up on altogether!
Last night was my last training shift at my new job. I'm scheduled to wait tables next week, and, even better, it's only a four-day work week. So I should have more money and more free time for the rest of May and June! I think I can handle that :) I'll never get over how smoothly things are going at work. R and I are even working well together despite the rough schedule. Our sleep cycles are both just naturally wonky, which means that when I get home at midnight we're both up for putting a few hours in at the shop. I didn't get to sleep until after four this morning, but we made a little progress on the next set of amps.
Speaking of making progress: tomorrow morning I set up at my first market in central Austin. As with everything else in my life right now, I'm torn between being out of my mind with trepidation and absolutely dumbfounded by my good luck. I never thought I'd weasel into this particular market, and it's actually one of the more affordable ones I've discovered! This is IT for us; if we're going to do well anywhere, it's at this venue.
Is everything seriously coming together? I think it might be! May has been so much more awesome than April, I can't freaking wait for June: regular art fairs, four more instruments in the collection, a fantastic and decent paying job, and a new home!
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Our First Sale
I had to work Sunday, but packed the car so R and S could work a craft fair in a nearby town. We'd spent the week working on cigar box amps and hadn't even had a chance to discuss prices before the first one sold!
What a bummer to be at my "real job" that day! It's been a weird couple of weeks like that. I'm making great money and spending it just as quickly as it comes in. This month Darling and I paid to have the bikes shipped across the country, to renew the truck registration and change its oil, and spent quite a bit of money on tools and materials for both the guitar workshop and my handyman job. It's a good thing I came out so far ahead in April.
Oh, the guitars. The investment has been significant, and I'm barely covering a percentage of it. It qualifies as a hobby so far as monthly tabulations go. If I tried to treat it as a job, my Real Hourly Wage would come to something like -$15/hour.
The diner has been a saving grace as well as a moral conundrum. The morality is a matter of dedication, the guilt trip I treat myself to during my limited downtime. Could the instrument business support me if I let it? If I really gave myself to it full time? Or would I go absolutely insane trying to support myself and my husband, living with my partner and his girlfriend? Possibly both.
I keep remembering, too, that my income needs are no longer about the here and now. In Michigan, living off of bikes and out of dumpsters, we could really afford to live day by day. Here in Austin my obligations are tenfold and ever-growing. Needy parents, a little sister on the verge of motherhood, Godchildren, the adopted truck, and The Great Catch-22: if I want to build guitars for a living, I have to be able to afford to live in Austin. If I want to pay Austin rents, I have to have a steady job. Ergo, to make a living off of guitars I have to make a killing waiting tables. Bah.
This is temporary. That is my mantra of the month. This, and all things, are temporary. Darling and I need to qualify for an apartment, need to have our own space, need to end our year of homelessness. This means looking straight. Miraculously, I got exactly the right job to achieve these ends as easily as possible! I couldn't pay for better luck. Soon, the guitars will begin to pay for themselves, to make a profit. Then I can see about leaving traditional employment, maybe forever and certainly not before I'm able to put away some savings. I just have to practice patience!
What a bummer to be at my "real job" that day! It's been a weird couple of weeks like that. I'm making great money and spending it just as quickly as it comes in. This month Darling and I paid to have the bikes shipped across the country, to renew the truck registration and change its oil, and spent quite a bit of money on tools and materials for both the guitar workshop and my handyman job. It's a good thing I came out so far ahead in April.
Oh, the guitars. The investment has been significant, and I'm barely covering a percentage of it. It qualifies as a hobby so far as monthly tabulations go. If I tried to treat it as a job, my Real Hourly Wage would come to something like -$15/hour.
The diner has been a saving grace as well as a moral conundrum. The morality is a matter of dedication, the guilt trip I treat myself to during my limited downtime. Could the instrument business support me if I let it? If I really gave myself to it full time? Or would I go absolutely insane trying to support myself and my husband, living with my partner and his girlfriend? Possibly both.
I keep remembering, too, that my income needs are no longer about the here and now. In Michigan, living off of bikes and out of dumpsters, we could really afford to live day by day. Here in Austin my obligations are tenfold and ever-growing. Needy parents, a little sister on the verge of motherhood, Godchildren, the adopted truck, and The Great Catch-22: if I want to build guitars for a living, I have to be able to afford to live in Austin. If I want to pay Austin rents, I have to have a steady job. Ergo, to make a living off of guitars I have to make a killing waiting tables. Bah.
This is temporary. That is my mantra of the month. This, and all things, are temporary. Darling and I need to qualify for an apartment, need to have our own space, need to end our year of homelessness. This means looking straight. Miraculously, I got exactly the right job to achieve these ends as easily as possible! I couldn't pay for better luck. Soon, the guitars will begin to pay for themselves, to make a profit. Then I can see about leaving traditional employment, maybe forever and certainly not before I'm able to put away some savings. I just have to practice patience!
Friday, May 17, 2013
The Wishing Well
Once upon a time there was a girl who was not careful what she wished for. She made wishes on every star, every candle, and every penny. She wished for big things, little things, impossible things, and sometimes very sensible things. More than once, she wished for Everything.
As she grew into a woman, she discovered that every single wish came true with time. Some wishes took years: the consequences of a toddler imagination haunted her twenties. Other wishes had immediate effects. There was no telling when or how some dream would present itself as true. She grew nervous about her wants, her heart's restless demands. Charmed above anyone else in the world, she was guiltily dissatisfied. She was always careful not to wish for money, except for a good cause, or a good home or nice things. She always worked hard and did her best to be humble, kind, and charitable to make up for her unfair disadvantage. She became convinced that her wishing power was somehow limited, somehow destructive, and would fail her when she needed it most.
Knowing she could have anything she wanted, she craved relief from the constant wanting. She was often disgusted by the reality behind the dreams and wished their undoing. A city was never as glamorous, a home never as peaceful, a job never as fulfilling, as she expected it to be. She traveled from place to place, switched careers on a whim, and harbored a deep emptiness that no wish could touch.
The girl was not a fool. She considered herself highly pragmatic, but could not dismiss the obvious fact that her wishing was somehow tied to the ancient human experience of Faith. Somehow, despite her dismissal of any higher power, her life was awash in daily miracles. She found it excruciatingly unfair. So many men and women of God, deserving missionaries and countless devotees spent their entire lives waiting for a single, desperate wish to be answered. This girl, however, suffered endless miracles from neither source nor cause, at no personal cost, to no apparent end. The girl wished for an explanation.
From that night on, the girl had the same dream over and over again. A wishing well, plain and simple, settled into the forefront in her mind. It was accompanied by a sense of curiosity, mild at first, but growing stronger over time. Eventually she grew obsessed with the wishing well, the deep sense of Questioning staying with her during her waking hours, distracting her every moment. What does the wishing well mean, she wondered? Why is the wishing well with me day and night? Who am I to the wishing well? When will the wishing well go away?
She finally confided in a friend the dream, who casually suggested the name of his priest. Driven to desperation by curiosity, she called the holy man, and in as unspecific terms possible explained her dream and its importance.
He seemed amused, "You dream about a wishing well, and a question? A question you think you have?"
"Yes," the girl responded impatiently, feeling stupid, "I asked a question, and every night I just dream about it over and over again."
"Well, it seems fairly obvious to me," the priest said tentatively, "that the answer is a question you must ask yourself."
"What do you think it is?" she asked, despair creeping into her voice.
"Well, my child, are you wishing well?"
As she grew into a woman, she discovered that every single wish came true with time. Some wishes took years: the consequences of a toddler imagination haunted her twenties. Other wishes had immediate effects. There was no telling when or how some dream would present itself as true. She grew nervous about her wants, her heart's restless demands. Charmed above anyone else in the world, she was guiltily dissatisfied. She was always careful not to wish for money, except for a good cause, or a good home or nice things. She always worked hard and did her best to be humble, kind, and charitable to make up for her unfair disadvantage. She became convinced that her wishing power was somehow limited, somehow destructive, and would fail her when she needed it most.
Knowing she could have anything she wanted, she craved relief from the constant wanting. She was often disgusted by the reality behind the dreams and wished their undoing. A city was never as glamorous, a home never as peaceful, a job never as fulfilling, as she expected it to be. She traveled from place to place, switched careers on a whim, and harbored a deep emptiness that no wish could touch.
The girl was not a fool. She considered herself highly pragmatic, but could not dismiss the obvious fact that her wishing was somehow tied to the ancient human experience of Faith. Somehow, despite her dismissal of any higher power, her life was awash in daily miracles. She found it excruciatingly unfair. So many men and women of God, deserving missionaries and countless devotees spent their entire lives waiting for a single, desperate wish to be answered. This girl, however, suffered endless miracles from neither source nor cause, at no personal cost, to no apparent end. The girl wished for an explanation.
From that night on, the girl had the same dream over and over again. A wishing well, plain and simple, settled into the forefront in her mind. It was accompanied by a sense of curiosity, mild at first, but growing stronger over time. Eventually she grew obsessed with the wishing well, the deep sense of Questioning staying with her during her waking hours, distracting her every moment. What does the wishing well mean, she wondered? Why is the wishing well with me day and night? Who am I to the wishing well? When will the wishing well go away?
She finally confided in a friend the dream, who casually suggested the name of his priest. Driven to desperation by curiosity, she called the holy man, and in as unspecific terms possible explained her dream and its importance.
He seemed amused, "You dream about a wishing well, and a question? A question you think you have?"
"Yes," the girl responded impatiently, feeling stupid, "I asked a question, and every night I just dream about it over and over again."
"Well, it seems fairly obvious to me," the priest said tentatively, "that the answer is a question you must ask yourself."
"What do you think it is?" she asked, despair creeping into her voice.
"Well, my child, are you wishing well?"
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
My Contradictions and a Sensible Plan
I like my job.
I had no expectations. Actually, I had really negative expectations. I've worked a lot of jobs and I've seen a lot of stupid situations. And I'm too impatient to put up with much stupidity in business, especially in the small-business world where, although a lot needs to change, no one has to reinvent the wheel. In other words, I can't stand another restaurant that refuses to stock enough inventory to get through the week, every week. I can't stand another place that overpays some staff and underpays everyone else. I can't stand another over-controlling boss, who works himself into the ground and makes poor choices out of sheer exhaustion because he can't take a day off or even leave his business alone for more than an hour.
I've had so many bad experiences that it's completely unbelievable how smoothly everything is running at the cafe, how calm and comfortable everyone seems to be, and how much money is flowing. I shouldn't brag, I don't mean to brag, but I'm just in awe. Sure, this is still a honeymoon period, but usually by the first week I've worked out the bullies who are going to make my life miserable, the boss with the drinking problem, the sadistic GM, the idiotic HR manager...but no. None of that. No hint of any of that.
I'm going to be able to afford an apartment! I'll be able to keep the truck, or not, depending on my own preferences. I'll be able to fill the house with good groceries and pay off my debt and purchase Christmas presents!
And the business? That's my one excuse to be concerned. Will I be able to pursue my craft and build a company if I'm working another full-time job? This time last year I'd be beating myself up, agonizing, twisting in the wind...but I've outgrown that!
You know why? "Anxious" is my default state of mind. I worry always. Given limited choice, I invent things to worry about. That's the root of my workaholic tendencies, as well as my destructive impulsiveness. I tend to create elaborate Catch-22 scenarios for myself and suffer the consequences. For example: I can keep a job I enjoy and live a comfortable lifestyle that enables me to pay debt and invest in my future, or I can continue to scrape along and devote myself entirely to a start-up business that could result in an interesting and exciting career as an artist!
If I go with the former path, I might achieve debt freedom, dental health, and maybe be able to buy a home in a few years...but I might also find myself a thirty-year-old college drop-out waitress with phenomenally high rent. The latter route will be exhausting and the fear of failure is almost as debilitating as the risk of a ruined friendship. That's what I could be writing this post about...but I'm not gonna. You know why?
We only control so much, and worry is not productive. I want to work and earn money, and I want to create art and build a business with my good friend. Perhaps it would be easier to do one or the other, but I refuse to throw either baby out with the collective bathwater. Maybe neither will work out in the long run and next year will find me in a teepee in the Grand Tetons.
Instead of taking an all-or-nothing stance on either lifestyle choice, I will simply achieve the goals my job was meant to help me accomplish:
1. Qualify for an Apartment
2. Pay off the last of my debt
3. Get the truck fixed up (possibly to sell)
4. Pay for my dental work
5. SAVE
It's quite possible for me to achieve all of these goals by Christmas, at which point I will have a number of products to sell and a number of venues to do so. This should be the case even if R and I only have a couple of days a week to work in the shop. If things go as planned, R and I could make a fantastic profit. I don't want to get my hopes up, but with my debt covered and my teeth in order, we (R, Darling, and myself) would be in a fantastic position to make an honest decision about how far we can go with the business. If we like, the instruments could could continue to be a weekend venture. Or I could reduce my hours at work and devote myself to the business full-time in 2014.
Decent plan? I think so. And the best part is that it doesn't require worrying, or even thinking too hard, for the next six months. Just work, and I like work :)
I had no expectations. Actually, I had really negative expectations. I've worked a lot of jobs and I've seen a lot of stupid situations. And I'm too impatient to put up with much stupidity in business, especially in the small-business world where, although a lot needs to change, no one has to reinvent the wheel. In other words, I can't stand another restaurant that refuses to stock enough inventory to get through the week, every week. I can't stand another place that overpays some staff and underpays everyone else. I can't stand another over-controlling boss, who works himself into the ground and makes poor choices out of sheer exhaustion because he can't take a day off or even leave his business alone for more than an hour.
I've had so many bad experiences that it's completely unbelievable how smoothly everything is running at the cafe, how calm and comfortable everyone seems to be, and how much money is flowing. I shouldn't brag, I don't mean to brag, but I'm just in awe. Sure, this is still a honeymoon period, but usually by the first week I've worked out the bullies who are going to make my life miserable, the boss with the drinking problem, the sadistic GM, the idiotic HR manager...but no. None of that. No hint of any of that.
I'm going to be able to afford an apartment! I'll be able to keep the truck, or not, depending on my own preferences. I'll be able to fill the house with good groceries and pay off my debt and purchase Christmas presents!
And the business? That's my one excuse to be concerned. Will I be able to pursue my craft and build a company if I'm working another full-time job? This time last year I'd be beating myself up, agonizing, twisting in the wind...but I've outgrown that!
You know why? "Anxious" is my default state of mind. I worry always. Given limited choice, I invent things to worry about. That's the root of my workaholic tendencies, as well as my destructive impulsiveness. I tend to create elaborate Catch-22 scenarios for myself and suffer the consequences. For example: I can keep a job I enjoy and live a comfortable lifestyle that enables me to pay debt and invest in my future, or I can continue to scrape along and devote myself entirely to a start-up business that could result in an interesting and exciting career as an artist!
If I go with the former path, I might achieve debt freedom, dental health, and maybe be able to buy a home in a few years...but I might also find myself a thirty-year-old college drop-out waitress with phenomenally high rent. The latter route will be exhausting and the fear of failure is almost as debilitating as the risk of a ruined friendship. That's what I could be writing this post about...but I'm not gonna. You know why?
We only control so much, and worry is not productive. I want to work and earn money, and I want to create art and build a business with my good friend. Perhaps it would be easier to do one or the other, but I refuse to throw either baby out with the collective bathwater. Maybe neither will work out in the long run and next year will find me in a teepee in the Grand Tetons.
Instead of taking an all-or-nothing stance on either lifestyle choice, I will simply achieve the goals my job was meant to help me accomplish:
1. Qualify for an Apartment
2. Pay off the last of my debt
3. Get the truck fixed up (possibly to sell)
4. Pay for my dental work
5. SAVE
It's quite possible for me to achieve all of these goals by Christmas, at which point I will have a number of products to sell and a number of venues to do so. This should be the case even if R and I only have a couple of days a week to work in the shop. If things go as planned, R and I could make a fantastic profit. I don't want to get my hopes up, but with my debt covered and my teeth in order, we (R, Darling, and myself) would be in a fantastic position to make an honest decision about how far we can go with the business. If we like, the instruments could could continue to be a weekend venture. Or I could reduce my hours at work and devote myself to the business full-time in 2014.
Decent plan? I think so. And the best part is that it doesn't require worrying, or even thinking too hard, for the next six months. Just work, and I like work :)
Monday, May 13, 2013
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
I am seriously thinking of entitling Year Seven "In Which I Get My Butt Into Gear." What do you think?
Darling and I are in the privileged position to completely rebuild our lives in Austin, with recent and relevant experience to draw on. So I decided to take time to determine what has worked for us, what has failed, and which experiences have just been absolutely terrible.
The Good
Downtown Living: There is something so decadent about a centrally located home, particularly in a city like Austin. My husband and I never lived in one of those fantastic high-rise condos off sixth street, but we did live in some of the most popular neighborhoods just south of the river.
Everyone thought we were crazy, but by living centrally my husband and I had access to employment and fantastic public transportation. We could get almost anywhere on foot, including work, banks, libraries, and parks. The grocery store was easily accessible by bus. Even visiting friends and family who lived on the more affordable edge of town was a fairly reasonable bus ride away.
The Fifteen-Minute Rule: Once upon a time, I decided to never work more than a fifteen minute walk away from my home. This was an invaluable choice for several years. I broke the rule to accept my dream job a few years back, and have never re-established it nor stopped regretting that choice.
I don't think there's much to say about this rule, except that it's pretty intimately tied to living close to lots of businesses, being flexible with regards to employment, and not having to drive while at work. But the benefits were amazing. I was never late and always got my exercise.
Moving Into The Co-op: There was nothing imperfect about living cooperatively. Darling and I were able to live downtown in a beautiful home, enjoy an organic diet, own chickens and harvest from a massive organic garden...All for significantly less than, say, the price of renting a one bedroom apartment and enjoying a typical American diet on the outskirts of town.
The Bad
Taking On The Truck: Oh, the truck. I've spent over $300 on it this month alone. I don't want to talk about how much it cost me last year. Having "reliable transportation" may have opened up my job prospects (I started working a 45 minute drive from my house!), but the financial and physical toll is enormous.
Paying Too Much Debt: There, I said it.
This may be hard to accept, but paying debt the way I did - in massive chunks, frantically and repetitively - was emotionally exhausting and financially irresponsible. There was no savings, no down-time, no celebration...just desperation and obsession. If obsession is the only thing that drives us, what do we do when it's gone? I became attached to the compulsion of debt payment itself, so much so that when I was going to lose it, when I approached debt freedom, I was unhappy. So I took the time to not care about debt. Again, I'm not asking you to accept this as advice, it's just how I experienced my situation. Now I know there is life after debt, and I'm looking forward to it.
Postponing Dental Work:
Had I taken some of the $10,000 I paid in debt last year and applied it to my teeth, I'd sleep much more easily today. But I've been putting off my dental needs my entire life. This is something I'm working on, but I wish it had been made a priority earlier on.
Working For New Companies:
The majority of new cafes and bakeries fail. Many do so because bakers and chefs are not necessarily good at business. Others fail do to location or a lack of start-up capital. Whatever the reason, it's a terrible process and no matter how trendy or groundbreaking the joint is, you don't want to be there for the swan song. I worked for four companies that failed in a two-year period, and I don't recommend it. I also worked for two places that have not failed, but experienced awful growing pains. If at all possible, work for the established local company.
The Ugly
Joining The Union: It seemed like a good idea in theory. I gave up on a lot of my ideals. Most of them. Working 60+ hours a week, there wasn't time to be principled. The pay was great, and I learned a lot, and made some amazing friends, so the entire experience was just, well, ugly.
Impulsiveness: I'd be remiss if I didn't pay homage to the fact that I am easily bored, easily distracted, and willing to throw my entire life out of order on a whim. I'm not going to do that again this year, or perhaps the next few years.
Pay Cuts For A Good Cause: I left my last really good job to start at the bakery, earning as much in a week as I once did on a weekend. After leaving the union I accepted the position at the non-profit, hoping that a good cause would override the frustration of crawling back to the service industry. I have never caught myself thinking, "the pay is terrible, but the job is a joy!" Instead, people who don't pay well tend not to appreciate their employees, which is not something I can accept.
Darling and I are in the privileged position to completely rebuild our lives in Austin, with recent and relevant experience to draw on. So I decided to take time to determine what has worked for us, what has failed, and which experiences have just been absolutely terrible.
The Good
Downtown Living: There is something so decadent about a centrally located home, particularly in a city like Austin. My husband and I never lived in one of those fantastic high-rise condos off sixth street, but we did live in some of the most popular neighborhoods just south of the river.
Everyone thought we were crazy, but by living centrally my husband and I had access to employment and fantastic public transportation. We could get almost anywhere on foot, including work, banks, libraries, and parks. The grocery store was easily accessible by bus. Even visiting friends and family who lived on the more affordable edge of town was a fairly reasonable bus ride away.
The Fifteen-Minute Rule: Once upon a time, I decided to never work more than a fifteen minute walk away from my home. This was an invaluable choice for several years. I broke the rule to accept my dream job a few years back, and have never re-established it nor stopped regretting that choice.
I don't think there's much to say about this rule, except that it's pretty intimately tied to living close to lots of businesses, being flexible with regards to employment, and not having to drive while at work. But the benefits were amazing. I was never late and always got my exercise.
Moving Into The Co-op: There was nothing imperfect about living cooperatively. Darling and I were able to live downtown in a beautiful home, enjoy an organic diet, own chickens and harvest from a massive organic garden...All for significantly less than, say, the price of renting a one bedroom apartment and enjoying a typical American diet on the outskirts of town.
The Bad
Taking On The Truck: Oh, the truck. I've spent over $300 on it this month alone. I don't want to talk about how much it cost me last year. Having "reliable transportation" may have opened up my job prospects (I started working a 45 minute drive from my house!), but the financial and physical toll is enormous.
Paying Too Much Debt: There, I said it.
This may be hard to accept, but paying debt the way I did - in massive chunks, frantically and repetitively - was emotionally exhausting and financially irresponsible. There was no savings, no down-time, no celebration...just desperation and obsession. If obsession is the only thing that drives us, what do we do when it's gone? I became attached to the compulsion of debt payment itself, so much so that when I was going to lose it, when I approached debt freedom, I was unhappy. So I took the time to not care about debt. Again, I'm not asking you to accept this as advice, it's just how I experienced my situation. Now I know there is life after debt, and I'm looking forward to it.
Postponing Dental Work:
Had I taken some of the $10,000 I paid in debt last year and applied it to my teeth, I'd sleep much more easily today. But I've been putting off my dental needs my entire life. This is something I'm working on, but I wish it had been made a priority earlier on.
Working For New Companies:
The majority of new cafes and bakeries fail. Many do so because bakers and chefs are not necessarily good at business. Others fail do to location or a lack of start-up capital. Whatever the reason, it's a terrible process and no matter how trendy or groundbreaking the joint is, you don't want to be there for the swan song. I worked for four companies that failed in a two-year period, and I don't recommend it. I also worked for two places that have not failed, but experienced awful growing pains. If at all possible, work for the established local company.
The Ugly
Joining The Union: It seemed like a good idea in theory. I gave up on a lot of my ideals. Most of them. Working 60+ hours a week, there wasn't time to be principled. The pay was great, and I learned a lot, and made some amazing friends, so the entire experience was just, well, ugly.
Impulsiveness: I'd be remiss if I didn't pay homage to the fact that I am easily bored, easily distracted, and willing to throw my entire life out of order on a whim. I'm not going to do that again this year, or perhaps the next few years.
Pay Cuts For A Good Cause: I left my last really good job to start at the bakery, earning as much in a week as I once did on a weekend. After leaving the union I accepted the position at the non-profit, hoping that a good cause would override the frustration of crawling back to the service industry. I have never caught myself thinking, "the pay is terrible, but the job is a joy!" Instead, people who don't pay well tend not to appreciate their employees, which is not something I can accept.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
New Job Review
Upon hiring me, my employers told me they'd try and scrape together enough shifts to keep me on payroll, but warned that I shouldn't expect too much work any time soon. Well, by the end of my first hour I had picked up two more shifts. By the end of day two I was scheduled to work full-time for the next two weeks. I am Working Woman, capable of finding employment where there is none!
I'd say that's a good sign.
I like the company. I've liked the company since I was fifteen, of course, but it's not too much different from this side of the counter. I like making money on a daily basis, the casual dress code, the fast pace, the reasonable rules and regulations. I work hard - and I LOVE working hard - but the company culture is one of almost enforced relaxation. Unlike a number of similar jobs I've worked, there's not a sense that I have to start dating coworkers or spend half my time hanging out with coworkers just to fit in. It's early, of course, but I feel really grateful about every aspect of my new job. It's just what I need right now.
I'd say that's a good sign.
I like the company. I've liked the company since I was fifteen, of course, but it's not too much different from this side of the counter. I like making money on a daily basis, the casual dress code, the fast pace, the reasonable rules and regulations. I work hard - and I LOVE working hard - but the company culture is one of almost enforced relaxation. Unlike a number of similar jobs I've worked, there's not a sense that I have to start dating coworkers or spend half my time hanging out with coworkers just to fit in. It's early, of course, but I feel really grateful about every aspect of my new job. It's just what I need right now.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Work And Home
My first shift at my new job begins in a couple of hours! It feels kind of unreal. I remember when I knew job used to feel fresh and exciting, like anything could happen and certainly everything in my life would improve. Now I just feel like every job could be any job: an opportunity to earn money, an infringement on my free time, and another set of compromises and worries and social obligations. Weird. I don't know if this is a healthy attitude or not, even if it's the most realistic way of looking at my situation. Maybe it's also a result of being in transition and flux for so long. I've experienced so many radical changes in the past couple of years that a new job just doesn't rank on the Notability Scale.
Or perhaps my lack of enthusiasm is because I need this job to be a Plan B. This job will provide the pay stubs and references I need to qualify for an apartment, to pay for the truck, to just generally re-establish myself in town. Or maybe I'm just protecting myself emotionally; by maintaining my distance, I'll avoid disappointment in the event that my coworkers are jerks or the pay is lame or the hours overwhelming. None of that is likely, but I'll reserve judgement until my training wraps up.
***
R and S are out of town for a few days, so Darling and I have enjoyed a lot of quiet and privacy that has fueled our appetite for more. I contacted a couple of people about studio apartments. Amazing: $700 for a 450 sq. foot studio apartment, with a $700 deposit and a $35 application fee. So $1435 just to move in. Don't think I'll be able to put away that much this month, thanks, plus there's something untrustworthy about someone who would charge that much of a deposit for so little space. Living cooperatively I just hadn't realized how bad the cost of living in Austin had become. Our two-bedroom townhouse cost us $800 a month when we moved into town in 2007! I want to believe that it just can't keep going up like this, but why?
I have to stop spending hours trying to find something reasonable on craigslist. The only thing I can do at this stage is work and save money. Then when I have a reasonable amount of money saved I can go to an apartment locating service, share my situation, and let them do the agonizing on commission.
Or perhaps my lack of enthusiasm is because I need this job to be a Plan B. This job will provide the pay stubs and references I need to qualify for an apartment, to pay for the truck, to just generally re-establish myself in town. Or maybe I'm just protecting myself emotionally; by maintaining my distance, I'll avoid disappointment in the event that my coworkers are jerks or the pay is lame or the hours overwhelming. None of that is likely, but I'll reserve judgement until my training wraps up.
***
R and S are out of town for a few days, so Darling and I have enjoyed a lot of quiet and privacy that has fueled our appetite for more. I contacted a couple of people about studio apartments. Amazing: $700 for a 450 sq. foot studio apartment, with a $700 deposit and a $35 application fee. So $1435 just to move in. Don't think I'll be able to put away that much this month, thanks, plus there's something untrustworthy about someone who would charge that much of a deposit for so little space. Living cooperatively I just hadn't realized how bad the cost of living in Austin had become. Our two-bedroom townhouse cost us $800 a month when we moved into town in 2007! I want to believe that it just can't keep going up like this, but why?
I have to stop spending hours trying to find something reasonable on craigslist. The only thing I can do at this stage is work and save money. Then when I have a reasonable amount of money saved I can go to an apartment locating service, share my situation, and let them do the agonizing on commission.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
A Time Worth Savoring
My days have been heavily themed lately. I recently had a 2-hour-bike-ride sort of day. Then a reading-a-trashy-novel-start-to-finish sort of day. Today is a hell-let's-go-ahead-and-have-a-Guinness sort of day. In other words, I have felt unusually self-indulgent and relaxed.
Not that I've been slacking. I never slack, not really. Darling and I have really enjoyed working together on handyman jobs. He knows his way around a hammer drill and is slightly less intimidated by jobs involving steel and masonry (such as yesterday's custom gate-hanging job). The Castle offered to hire us on as permanent workers. I might see if bosswoman would be up to having us just working a couple of days a week, because otherwise there just isn't time. Not with me starting a new serving job at the diner tomorrow afternoon.
I looked at all the one-bedroom and two-bedroom apartments advertised on Craigslist yesterday and got the average price for both. That amounts to nearly $900 a month for the former and $1400 for the latter. I'd sort of been hoping to find something reasonable for $700, so this was a much-needed reality check on my part. To be honest, just accepting that we're going to have to earn more money and spend more money to be comfortable is a big relief on my part. I'm tired of scraping, scrimping, and doing without. I don't mean to suggest that Darling and I are going to go crazy with our spending and stop caring: I'm just ready to take a balanced approach. The last time we lived in our own apartment and earned good money, I paid lots of debt, saved lots of money, donated a good deal to charity...and agonized over spending $2 for a re-usable bag to carry home our groceries on the bus!
My new job will make everything so much easier, too. It's ironic that I'm returning to waiting tables for the same reasons I left in the first place. There is a lot of instability to earning money on a daily basis, even when it is a lot of money. I thought a weekly paycheck and steady hourly wage would improve our financial picture. In many ways, it did. It was good to put in my 40-hours-plus-overtime and know exactly what to expect every week. I just couldn't bring in the same level of cash, and when I did bring home big money, I allocated it at lightening speed to such a degree that it never felt like I made money at all. Again, I'm not saying that instability is best, but I certainly miss it.
***
It's worth noting my current happiness and satisfaction with life right now. Nothing is going as planned, but everything feels right, you know? Maybe I'm just mellowing, forgiving myself. I'd always sort of looked forward to growing out of my twenties. It seems to be an age of anxiety and over-ambition. My friends in their thirties have always seemed so much calmer, so much more together and productive, if less frantically energetic. I think finding my first gray hair was a vindicating relief. I can stop fretting over what to be when I grow up: if I'm a waitress who makes intelligent and responsible decisions, that's enough for me. If my marriage continues with its current direction, I can reasonable expect to live happily ever after. Having dabbled in everything, I'm slowly working towards competency in many things, even mastery at some things. This is a time worth savoring.
Not that I've been slacking. I never slack, not really. Darling and I have really enjoyed working together on handyman jobs. He knows his way around a hammer drill and is slightly less intimidated by jobs involving steel and masonry (such as yesterday's custom gate-hanging job). The Castle offered to hire us on as permanent workers. I might see if bosswoman would be up to having us just working a couple of days a week, because otherwise there just isn't time. Not with me starting a new serving job at the diner tomorrow afternoon.
 |
| My new laptop struggles w/images for some reason. Uploading this took almost as longer than drilling through the stone to hang the bloody gate itself! |
My new job will make everything so much easier, too. It's ironic that I'm returning to waiting tables for the same reasons I left in the first place. There is a lot of instability to earning money on a daily basis, even when it is a lot of money. I thought a weekly paycheck and steady hourly wage would improve our financial picture. In many ways, it did. It was good to put in my 40-hours-plus-overtime and know exactly what to expect every week. I just couldn't bring in the same level of cash, and when I did bring home big money, I allocated it at lightening speed to such a degree that it never felt like I made money at all. Again, I'm not saying that instability is best, but I certainly miss it.
***
It's worth noting my current happiness and satisfaction with life right now. Nothing is going as planned, but everything feels right, you know? Maybe I'm just mellowing, forgiving myself. I'd always sort of looked forward to growing out of my twenties. It seems to be an age of anxiety and over-ambition. My friends in their thirties have always seemed so much calmer, so much more together and productive, if less frantically energetic. I think finding my first gray hair was a vindicating relief. I can stop fretting over what to be when I grow up: if I'm a waitress who makes intelligent and responsible decisions, that's enough for me. If my marriage continues with its current direction, I can reasonable expect to live happily ever after. Having dabbled in everything, I'm slowly working towards competency in many things, even mastery at some things. This is a time worth savoring.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Year Six: A Review Of What's Been
The Challenge is officially six years old! My baby!
I started this blog at the age of 22. By that time I'd already been married a few years, had been supporting myself financially for close to a decade, dropped out of college, and had over $22,000 in debt. The same year I started this blog I moved from Virginia to Texas, from a basement apartment full of potted herbs to a two-bedroom townhouse full of my grandmother's furniture. I got my first waitress job, which I would work for the next two years and develop a reputation and network that would land me similar jobs even today. Darling worked in telecommunications, and over then course of the next couple of years together we paid thousands of dollars in debt, took two trips to England, two return trips to Virginia, and one weekend camping trip to Louisiana. Darling studied solar mechanics, renewable energy, and computer science at the community college. I baked bread, hosted massive vegetarian holiday parties, and experimented with home-made cough drops and washing my hair with baking soda.
We downsized. In order to cultivate my baking skills, I took a massive pay cut and started working at a bakery. We moved from the townhouse to a slightly smaller space "community-based" complex, and then into a bedroom in a housing cooperative. Our priorities shifted: I babysat, spent time with my sister, attempted to record my father's life story, learned how not to build a house, worked on an organic farm to help make ends meet...I quit the bakery and accepted a job at one of those fantastic local cafes that can't possibly survive. Darling worked in landscaping, dish washing, and canvassing while also volunteering in the Austin mental health community and acting as president of the cooperative board two years running (a job NO ONE wanted at that dark stage of the co-ops life).
I got my DREAM JOB and it turned into a nightmare job. My heart was broken, I was depressed, and for the first time I left employment and did not want something new. The experience was so bad that I could no longer handle the risk of being defined by my job. Darling accepted solar work across the state to pick up the slack, and for months he supported me while I was devoted to the house, friends, and family. Then one day on a whim I applied for a position at the carpenters union.
That lasted a little over six months, just long enough to re-define my understanding of income, work, and finances. I also became absolutely compulsively manic about paying debt. We were barely able to make rent because of my extreme behavior, and one day I ran out of gas on the highway. Over $10,000 went to debt in less than six months, most of it from Darling's job, which paid twice my own. He never complained, never said a word.
Another emotional breakdown, this one exasperated by the racial, gender, and cultural issues I faced at work, issues no one I knew could relate to on any level whatsoever, most particularly my transgender and feminist friends. I felt truly, devastatingly alone. The response to any post I made about the experience on this blog was especially painful, and for the first time I thought about retiring it. I retired from carpentry instead.
A few months later Darling and I bought a couple of second-hand bikes, gave away the bulk of our possessions, and headed to Michigan. Part spiritual pilgrimage, part low/no-income boot camp, the rest of 2012 was spent learning to love and trust and dream again while spending less in six months than our previous monthly rent bill. I learned to dumpster dive, lived with folks who had achieved my most radical dreams, harvested chicory, found myself totally down-and-out in Illinois, spoke at city hall, and faced fears I wasn't smart enough to have.
We've been back in Texas now for several months. The plan was to touch base and keep travelling, but plans obviously change. Austin has always taken care of me. I have spent my time working, receiving dental care, acquiring necessities I couldn't afford to maintain on the road such as clothing and contact lenses, and just generally cleaning up.
It's funny to realize only now that my great aspiration, having returned to Austin, is to find a nice big apartment to move into. Funnier still that I'm starting my first serious waiting job this week to pay for said apartment. Life is so cyclical, isn't it, even predictable? Does that mean I'll hold steady for a couple of years, start growing herbs and tomato seedlings on my bedside table, hang my laundry across the living room again? Earn enough money to pay off the last of my meager debt and start thinking about college again, and then travel? I look forward to baking bread, that's for damn sure, and spending late mornings knitting and reading. Start sewing again. These aren't the goals I was expecting to have at this stage, but it's certainly my highest ideal at the moment.
I started this blog at the age of 22. By that time I'd already been married a few years, had been supporting myself financially for close to a decade, dropped out of college, and had over $22,000 in debt. The same year I started this blog I moved from Virginia to Texas, from a basement apartment full of potted herbs to a two-bedroom townhouse full of my grandmother's furniture. I got my first waitress job, which I would work for the next two years and develop a reputation and network that would land me similar jobs even today. Darling worked in telecommunications, and over then course of the next couple of years together we paid thousands of dollars in debt, took two trips to England, two return trips to Virginia, and one weekend camping trip to Louisiana. Darling studied solar mechanics, renewable energy, and computer science at the community college. I baked bread, hosted massive vegetarian holiday parties, and experimented with home-made cough drops and washing my hair with baking soda.
We downsized. In order to cultivate my baking skills, I took a massive pay cut and started working at a bakery. We moved from the townhouse to a slightly smaller space "community-based" complex, and then into a bedroom in a housing cooperative. Our priorities shifted: I babysat, spent time with my sister, attempted to record my father's life story, learned how not to build a house, worked on an organic farm to help make ends meet...I quit the bakery and accepted a job at one of those fantastic local cafes that can't possibly survive. Darling worked in landscaping, dish washing, and canvassing while also volunteering in the Austin mental health community and acting as president of the cooperative board two years running (a job NO ONE wanted at that dark stage of the co-ops life).
I got my DREAM JOB and it turned into a nightmare job. My heart was broken, I was depressed, and for the first time I left employment and did not want something new. The experience was so bad that I could no longer handle the risk of being defined by my job. Darling accepted solar work across the state to pick up the slack, and for months he supported me while I was devoted to the house, friends, and family. Then one day on a whim I applied for a position at the carpenters union.
That lasted a little over six months, just long enough to re-define my understanding of income, work, and finances. I also became absolutely compulsively manic about paying debt. We were barely able to make rent because of my extreme behavior, and one day I ran out of gas on the highway. Over $10,000 went to debt in less than six months, most of it from Darling's job, which paid twice my own. He never complained, never said a word.
Another emotional breakdown, this one exasperated by the racial, gender, and cultural issues I faced at work, issues no one I knew could relate to on any level whatsoever, most particularly my transgender and feminist friends. I felt truly, devastatingly alone. The response to any post I made about the experience on this blog was especially painful, and for the first time I thought about retiring it. I retired from carpentry instead.
A few months later Darling and I bought a couple of second-hand bikes, gave away the bulk of our possessions, and headed to Michigan. Part spiritual pilgrimage, part low/no-income boot camp, the rest of 2012 was spent learning to love and trust and dream again while spending less in six months than our previous monthly rent bill. I learned to dumpster dive, lived with folks who had achieved my most radical dreams, harvested chicory, found myself totally down-and-out in Illinois, spoke at city hall, and faced fears I wasn't smart enough to have.
We've been back in Texas now for several months. The plan was to touch base and keep travelling, but plans obviously change. Austin has always taken care of me. I have spent my time working, receiving dental care, acquiring necessities I couldn't afford to maintain on the road such as clothing and contact lenses, and just generally cleaning up.
It's funny to realize only now that my great aspiration, having returned to Austin, is to find a nice big apartment to move into. Funnier still that I'm starting my first serious waiting job this week to pay for said apartment. Life is so cyclical, isn't it, even predictable? Does that mean I'll hold steady for a couple of years, start growing herbs and tomato seedlings on my bedside table, hang my laundry across the living room again? Earn enough money to pay off the last of my meager debt and start thinking about college again, and then travel? I look forward to baking bread, that's for damn sure, and spending late mornings knitting and reading. Start sewing again. These aren't the goals I was expecting to have at this stage, but it's certainly my highest ideal at the moment.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Pleasant May Days
I knew May would be a fantastic relief after such a rough April, but the past couple of days have gone exceptionally well.
Darling and I went back to The Castle to do more handy-man-type work. We mounted large cast iron gates onto stone pillars, which involved a degree of lifting and maneuvering beyond my own abilities, as well as the use of a hammer drill, which happens to be a tool of Darling's particular trade. I followed his lead and enjoyed our work-date.
My evenings have been spent in the shop. I know enough to work without R's constant supervision, though I am prone to make small mistakes here and there. So I've enjoyed sanding, shaping, and polishing while rocking out to my own music and enjoying some alone time.
Tomorrow I enjoy the rare pleasure of having no plans. I'll probably spend a few hours in the shop, and there are always errands to run. Monday I go into the diner to fill out some paperwork and hopefully receive my training schedule. Then the rest of my life will hinge, once again, on the needs and requirements of my "real job." I think this is a good thing.
Darling and I went back to The Castle to do more handy-man-type work. We mounted large cast iron gates onto stone pillars, which involved a degree of lifting and maneuvering beyond my own abilities, as well as the use of a hammer drill, which happens to be a tool of Darling's particular trade. I followed his lead and enjoyed our work-date.
My evenings have been spent in the shop. I know enough to work without R's constant supervision, though I am prone to make small mistakes here and there. So I've enjoyed sanding, shaping, and polishing while rocking out to my own music and enjoying some alone time.
Tomorrow I enjoy the rare pleasure of having no plans. I'll probably spend a few hours in the shop, and there are always errands to run. Monday I go into the diner to fill out some paperwork and hopefully receive my training schedule. Then the rest of my life will hinge, once again, on the needs and requirements of my "real job." I think this is a good thing.
Friday, May 3, 2013
May 2013 Net Worth
I was not looking forward to calculating my net worth at the end of April. I knew I wasn't going to reach my goal of debt freedom. I seriously doubted whether or not my net worth would even reach a new low. This was a depressing notion as my record low took place last May, so, at least on the face of it, the past year would look like a total bust.
So imagine my total and pleasant surprise to find that, yes, I did reach a new low. An entirely new and unexpected milestone, in fact: my net worth is less than a thousand dollars away from being positive! At
-$970.40 the increase is only about $340 for the year, but what a psychological difference! I'm so close to freedom I can taste it :)
***
I got my TABC and Food Handler Certification and Monday I'm going to go in and fill out the paperwork for my new job waiting tables at a downtown diner. I have very mixed feelings about accepting another job, but a number of factors are affecting my decision. Basically, this needs to be a year of abundance for Darling and myself, and we need to have enough to share. My records indicate that waiting tables provides the best real hourly wage on the most steady basis (cleaning houses earned more per hour, but I couldn't do it more than a few hours a week). If nothing else, the schedule will be flexible enough and the money will be good enough to keep Darling and myself comfortable until the guitars start taking off come Christmas.
***
For the first time ever it feels natural to envision a life after debt. I think I want to go back to college in the Fall of 2014. It just feels natural and makes sense: by the end of the year I will be debt free, my dental work will be complete, my business should be generating an income, I will have settled into my new job and earned a good reputation, and Darling and I will have our own apartment. The vast majority of our original debt was the result of my first two years in college, so it feels really natural to go "back," and do it right this time. Out of pocket, of course, and hopefully with the help of government aid of some sort.
At this point my degree of choice feels totally natural and obvious, too, but I'm not going to go so far as to announce my decision because I still have a year to make up or change my mind altogether. It's just amazing how obvious this choice feels, how correct. Realizing just how close I am to being able to make these choices makes me so giddy! Less than a thousand dollars to debt freedom!
So imagine my total and pleasant surprise to find that, yes, I did reach a new low. An entirely new and unexpected milestone, in fact: my net worth is less than a thousand dollars away from being positive! At
-$970.40 the increase is only about $340 for the year, but what a psychological difference! I'm so close to freedom I can taste it :)
***
I got my TABC and Food Handler Certification and Monday I'm going to go in and fill out the paperwork for my new job waiting tables at a downtown diner. I have very mixed feelings about accepting another job, but a number of factors are affecting my decision. Basically, this needs to be a year of abundance for Darling and myself, and we need to have enough to share. My records indicate that waiting tables provides the best real hourly wage on the most steady basis (cleaning houses earned more per hour, but I couldn't do it more than a few hours a week). If nothing else, the schedule will be flexible enough and the money will be good enough to keep Darling and myself comfortable until the guitars start taking off come Christmas.
***
For the first time ever it feels natural to envision a life after debt. I think I want to go back to college in the Fall of 2014. It just feels natural and makes sense: by the end of the year I will be debt free, my dental work will be complete, my business should be generating an income, I will have settled into my new job and earned a good reputation, and Darling and I will have our own apartment. The vast majority of our original debt was the result of my first two years in college, so it feels really natural to go "back," and do it right this time. Out of pocket, of course, and hopefully with the help of government aid of some sort.
At this point my degree of choice feels totally natural and obvious, too, but I'm not going to go so far as to announce my decision because I still have a year to make up or change my mind altogether. It's just amazing how obvious this choice feels, how correct. Realizing just how close I am to being able to make these choices makes me so giddy! Less than a thousand dollars to debt freedom!
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