Awakening

Kinda like being jolted out of a deep, sweet sleep, I've been "awakened" to the tasks between me and financial prosperity.  While it makes all the sense in the world to do this stuff, I have the added "benefit" of "no choice" to prompt me onward, and/or serve as my drill sergeant.

Here's what I've accomplished this week:


1.  Created the quickie budget of monthly necessities to determine where the dollars come in, and what requires the dollars to go out.

2.  Organized my desk and financial files.  This was quite a feat as I'd allowed all manner of junk mail, bobby pins, old to-do lists, and toys in disrepair to languish on the desk.  An auxiliary stack of at least six months of paid bills and records had been messily piled next to (not in to) the file cabinet as well.  I did find my passport, though.  Bonus.

3.  Completed a cash flow analysis.  This included analyzing the last three months of expenses and finding out exactly the adventures and misadventures of my money.  It also required looking up all consumer debt balances and percentage rates.  Doing this absolutely kicked me in the ass.  Frankly put,  I'm upside down.

4.  Created a September cash flow plan prioritizing all expenses and subtracted that amount from funds available this month.  Dave Ramsey calls this "spending your money on paper" or "naming every dollar."  Another epiphanous step.  The process alerted me to exactly how much of an impact each expense "costs" my pocket book.  I'll be short this month.  While that's frightening news, it's much easier to receive and plan for that conclusion now than it would have been when to get a "surprise" email from the bank about a series of overdrafts.

5.  The September shortage prompted a series of humbling, but potentially bottomline-reducing phone calls.

• Landlord - Q:  May I please pay a lower rent these next six months?  A:  Perhaps.  (This surprised me!  I wasn't aware that this would even be considered!)
• Chase Master Card - Q:  May I please take advantage of lower interest rates?  A:  No.  None are available FOR YOU at this time.
• Capital One Visa - Q:  May I please take advantage of lower interest rates?  A:  No.  
• Western Oregon Waste:  May I please decrease service each month?  A:  Yes.  (Saved $15.00 every three months!)
• Verizon FIOS - Q:  Are there any less expensive rate plans I may qualify for? A:  Nope. (I'm at the least expensive for non-Verizon, teacher, wireless only customers.  Good to know.)
• California Casualty Insurance:  After comparing rate quotes for car and renters' insurance, I found this company (who has a working relationship with the Oregon Education Association) offered me premiums that reduced my monthly insurance budget by $20.00 a month for identical coverage.
• Netflix:  downgraded from three DVD's at a time to one.   Saved $8.00!  (As a non-tv/cable family, we usually access their "View Instantly" service for our screen fix.)
• Medical insurance benefits:  Through our school district I re-evaluated my medical coverage during the open enrollment period.  I found I can save $83.00 a month and that the district will put 67% of what they would have paid for the more expensive premiums in to a Section 125 plan which will allow me to be reimbursed for co-pays, prescriptions, and other non-covered items.  Can't really understand why I didn't understand this LAST year when the opportunity became available, but I'm glad to be on the boat this time around.

6.  Despite the fact that Dave Ramsey thinks debt "con"solidation loans are a bunch of hooey, I contacted my bank for options.  Though, I was denied the loan due to my credit to income ratio,  the conversation I shared with Lisa, the loan adviser, was...uplifting.  Turns out she's a single mom who actually turned her financial state around after a similar turn of circumstances a few years ago.  Lisa repeatedly told me I was making a wise choice to take this one now, rather than later.  She even suggested that I start planning my "debts gone" celebration.  If I could, I'd invite her.  She inspired me a ton.

Even though hearing I did not qualify for a loan was deflating, grasping that a plan to debtlessness requires diligence offered me hope.  An "ah-ha!" moment.  Pay off my consumer debt in five years or less is feasible.

Apparently, I may qualify if I can coordinate a co-signer.  Perhaps that would improve the interest rates as well.  But, cosigning is another action Dave condemns.  Not so sure how I feel about that.  Whether wise or not, I'll make more calls on Monday to learn about other loan "products."

7.  Brainstormed a list of possible income streams including reviving my pet and house sitting business "All Taken Care Of", signing on for extra jobs at school (like tutoring, teaching yoga, Saturday School monitoring, proctoring SATs, working at our summer school), pursuing other employment options, and moving.  Least attractive to me is moving.  I'm willing to do a lot before moving my son AGAIN, even if it is just a mile or so away.  He's a flexible, amiable kid.  But, let me please avoid that step.

8.  Scoured the house for things to sell.  Books = Powells.  Clothes = Buffalo Exchange and New to You.  Higher ticket items (tv, bike, jewelry) = Craigslist and eBay.  And, it looks like my sweet JettaWagon is on the chopping block.  The payments are low in comparison to many folks who are buying cars, but not having that $200.00 walk out the door for the next two years would help a ton.

9.  Cashed in past purchases that needed to be returned and lottery scratch it tickets from Christmas.  The Lotto is ever present in Oregon, it seems.  But try to redeem them?  Where the heck do I go for that?!   Finally pulled into a minimart; they knew exactly what to do with me.  As the clerk scanned my tickets, a little chime rang from the computer and a monitor read, "Congratulations!" It did kinda feel...good.  No wonder folks keep playing...

10.  Engaged in humbling conversations with my boyfriend and parents about what I've amassed and what I need to do.  It's one thing to realize in the privacy of my own now tidy home office how stupid and immature my relationship with money has been.  But it's another all together to speak that truth out loud to folks whose opinions I value.  Kind of like the difference between playing tennis on wii, and actually playing tennis...on a real court...with real racket and ball and sweat.  As I watched the details sink into their brains and the mixture of concern, disbelief, and empathy cloud their eyes I asked myself (and I'm sure they did too...) "How can an intelligent woman have been so dumb?"

11.  Teamed with my son to create a "commissions" list for him to earn money by working around the house.  We chose six chores and assigned them amounts he could earn if he does them each week.  Only six dollars a week will teach him the value of work and responsibility and will help me have a little more time to attend to my desk or catch up with myself.  Money well invested.

12.  Began the "cash envelopes" strategy for food, gas, and fun dollars. My purse now houses those three envelopes and the amount budgeted to each.  After years of paying only only with plastic (both debit and credit), it's mighty strange to hand over the green.  And stranger still to be given back change...and coin!  The little one and I are brainstorming some schemes for our change....

13.  Continuing to research, learn, and apply how to make money work for me.  I'm listening to Dave Ramsey's Peace University CD's in the car.  He's providing tons of food for thought, encouragement, and tools.  But, I'm also seeking other input.  Friends from around the world have emailed or called with tips, suggestions, and encouragement.  I'm amazed by the resources I'd overlooked or feigned ignorance of.  There really is no mystery when it comes to money - only spend what you've got.  And do smart stuff with the money you have.  Duh.

14.  Used coupons...funny how I'd clip and let languish those buggers until they'd expire.  But now, now I'm redeeming them!  Yesterday I just got two free pairs of Victoria Secret undies!  See, that's fine by me!  Who knows when I'll have the actual dollars to buy new drawers again.  Thanks, Vicky!

And old gift cards with partial balances?  They'll start riding around in my "fun" envelope; never know when an itch to make a purchase will tempt.  With ye olde gift card, I'll be able to come home with something new without leaving part of my budget at the store. Sweet.

15  Created a list of anticipated expenses like birthdays and holidays and trips so that I can begin allocating funds and ideas for them.  I've already decided what I'll inexpensively give as Christmas gifts this year.  Ho! Ho! Ho!

16.  Admitted to friends that I can't afford to join in on upcoming weekends away.  This has been a tough one.  For so many years I've splurged on such things because "I deserved it."  But, I hadn't stashed money away, which would later cause me to charge other things because I'd run out of cash.  The memories I've collected at such gatherings are priceless, but the credit I've amassed is pricey.  Since I know this condition is temporary...I'm sucking it up.

17.  Counted my blessings...hourly.  I'm what Mr. Ramsey calls "broke".  I'm searching for ways to make ends meet between now and Sept. 30.  On a larger scale, I have at least five years of scrimping and paying off debt to go.  But, thank goodness this awareness has shaken me up now, at this point in my life.  Thank goodness for the encouragement and support of my boyfriend, family, and friends.  Thank goodness I'm relatively healthy and and have a clean, safe home for my little one and I.  Thank goodness I have a steady job I love.  Universe, thank you.  I know I can do this.

Some wins:
I've trimmed $132 from my monthly expenses
I've collected $83.00 from items returned, sold, and cashed
I've listed $395.00 worth of items for sale on ebay and Craigslist*
I'm more organized and focused than I've been in months

I'm AWAKE!


*let me know if you are looking for a fabulous car, television, youth-sized bike, pyrrha necklace, or sassy pair of designer jeans :D

Order

It's taken a majority of the day, but the hurricane flotsam on my desk has been cleared.  Almost needed to call for the Coast Guard. I've lived here a year and spent maybe ten hours in this room at my desk during that time. In two days I've doubled that.  The view's not too bad from my desk, I've discovered.


The stacks of files and folders have been sorted and put away.  (I'm a stacker.  Oh, Heavens, am I a stacker.) About seventeen hundred pounds of recycling is ready to be shredded.  I can actually see the photos under the clear desktop mat.  Perhaps this is just a calm before the cliched storm, but I'll savor it none-the-less.


Most important and remarkable today, I've stared down that monster of a quickie budget of monthly necessities only to find it's just a dust bunny.  I mean, it's not a pretty dust bunny, but the thing's no Alien or Predator either. I'm giving myself a self-congratulatory pat on the back. One baby step taken.


Of course, I had some help along the way.  Thank goodness for www.daveramsey.com and the forms available there.  Rather than having to create a budget spread sheet from scratch as I'd fretted about doing for the last month, all I had to do was click and print.  Very painless. Easy. 


I'm grateful, too, for the spending analysis Wells Fargo provides of my accounts online.  I was able to easily scan three months of expenditures in various categories to make more realistic estimates of monthly spending. Much more manageable than swimming in the vat of old statements I'd nightmared about. After a little tweaking of where the computer automatically filed purchases, all I had to do was be honest with myself.



My quickie budget dust bunny neatly positioned on my newly organized desk, I have to admit, I feel good.  And a little sick.  After reviewing where the money has gone these last three months, it won't be hard to trim off considerable fat.  Seriously.  A family of two spending nearly $2,000 on groceries and eating out during that time?  That's nauseating.


For the first time in at least a month, I'm heading to bed with peace. I'm not scared of what "might be."  Instead, I've got a realistic picture of what is.  And, what is can be handled. There isn't bold enough type, italics, and highlighting to emphasize how good that feels.

Chaos

The email has been checked and attended to.
I've eaten a well balanced meal.
My glass of water is nearby.
I went to the bathroom.
I updated Facebook.
I'm stalling.

It's budget/cashflow planning day.

 And, this is what I'm facing.

Baby Steps

One of the fondest memories from my son's first year was the evening he first attempted to stand on his own.  For weeks he'd been crawling to the ottoman and pulling himself up by the upholstery or reaching up to me for a little lift. He was on the brink of toddler independence and I hoped and prayed that I, and not the babysitter, would be the first to see him really stand on those two precious feet.



The heavens granted my wish. While folding clothes in the living room, I stepped into the bedroom for a few moments to put stuff away.  That's when I heard that tale tell sound of my baby falling.  Lightening couldn't have been faster than my return to the living room...where I found him not crying, but laughing.   As I scanned for clues, he carefully moved to all fours, squatted like a football player on a line of scrimmage, rocked back and forth a bit on two hands, then one...then slowly, wobbily, he stood, arms outstretched for shaky balance.  I'm sure we both held our breath.  He looked up, grinned the hugest, "Mama!  Look what my legs can do!", and then gravity brought him right back to Earth, accompanied by his burble of laughter.   Again and again and again...and he's been the quickest kid I've ever witnessed ever since.  


Though I didn't realize it at the time, my son taught me how to stand up. Thank you, sweet boy!  And now it's my turn.  Seems all it takes is readiness. And a healthy acceptance of tumbling. 


After more than a few recommendations, today I finally popped the first of several audio CDs by David Ramsey and Financial Peace University into the car's player on my trek to my last (for a while) fancy, Portland Salon, hair appointment.  Listening to Dave's sage counsel and goofy schtick,  much of my anxiety evaporated over the miles.  Yes, I'm in a bad place.  But, by taking action, even baby steps to make a plan for my money, I can change the habits of twenty years and thousands of dollars of debt.


It's reassuring to know that Dave and his many, many "students" have used the steps he proposes to success.  And, though I've mostly absorbed the philosophy - the whys and whens and hows- I'm less overwhelmed by the tasks before me.


What surprised me while listening, though, were my emotions.  Somewhere near the Tigard onramp to Interstate 5, I found myself bawling in traffic.  Dave had just introduced his wife, Sharon, to the assembled CD audience.  He said something along the lines of, "If I am successful, it is because of the woman she is."  And, I cried.  Even had to take a few deep breaths!  Here's this guy, a businessman, a salesman, father of five, who even after bankruptcy would be considered successful by many a measure, and he attributes this to his wife.  Surely, he's a big part of the recipe.  But he honors her.


Now, I'm always touched by gestures of appreciation, and I've got mad respect for those who meet marriage together through ups and downs.  But tears in traffice?  Angela.  Really?   As my son recently quipped when I wept during the first ten minutes of Pixar's "Up", "But, Mom!  Why are you crying?  You hardly even know her?" 


I cried because I want to be a partner like that.  And, I cried because I know I have a long way to go before I am.  Sure, I possess talents and skills useful and entertaining.  But, I'm far from a financial asset. Where I want to bring ease and security, right now I simply offer challenge.  That's not okay with me.


What could be accomplished when I am able to contribute the skills and experience of financial security to the life my partner and I build?   What pratfalls could we avoid?  What prosperity and ease would be ours?  With all my heart, I want to know the answers.


So, standing up on my own to feet, armed with readiness and the grace to tumble, tomorrow is the day I'll write my first budget ever and create a cash flow plan for September.  Baby steps.  








(With gratitude and surprise, I find myself surrounded by folks near and far.  Thank you Jeff, Shelley, Terry, Kris, Nicole, Jennifer, Liz, Lynn, Angela, Robin, Triawn, Matt, and Ben for resources and support.   Thank you so, so, so much!)   

Fear

This summer I faced a sixteen year old fear and played my guitar in front of an audience.  I played Kenny Roger's "The Gambler."  Plainly stated, it was not good. I struggled with each chord change; the ones I hit sounded muddled; there were long pauses as I fumbled for the fingering; it took about five minutes.  But, when I finished, they gave me a standing ovation.


A standing ovation!


Granted, this was an audience comprised of high school students from across the state assembled for the pure purpose of personal development at the annual Oregon Association of Student Councils summer camp, and they are definitely the most encouraging group on the planet.  BUT, I played and they listened and they applauded.


I had faced a fear.  A fear that had absorbed energy and grown each time I glimpsed my guitar in the corner, each time I proclaimed I'd take lessons but didn't, each time I mused, "Wouldn't it be lovely to learn to play while I'm pregnant?  While my son is small?  In lessons with my son?" and never followed through, each time I lasciviously listened as a friend entertained adoring fans around the campfire...


The moment I finished "The Gambler", the very moment, I was richer, I was stronger, I was lighter.  All the weight I'd lugged around fretting about learning to play and fearing sounding terribly - it was gone. I may not be a good guitar player yet, but I'm better and more experienced than I used to be as a result of facing that fear.


It's my belief that a similar phenomenon of relief and lightness will occur when I take steps to release this fear, the fear of taking measure and falling short.  Being less than my friends, my significant other, my family, my neighbors, my colleagues.  Having less.  


Whether it's the wisdom of my years, or somehow I just started paying attention, it's struck me painfully that having less is of lesser threat than having nothing...which could very well happen for me, and resultantly for my son, should I continue to make purchases and financial decisions based on the foundation that I must not be less than.  


Apply this to a habit I've practiced since my son's dad and I divorced.  I felt an imperative to measure up to his dad...his dad's home, furnishings, outings.  Even though this little boy was only two and wouldn't have noticed if our home was owned or rented, filled with new or thrift store goods, I felt determined to give him the best.  Not the best that I could do with what I had, but the best in comparison to what his dad could offer.  


Pointless.  Irresponsible. Fear.


Isn't it more important that he feel loved and comfortable in our home? Isn't it more important that he and I have time to spend together?  Isn't it more useful to him to come from a family modeling responsible financial decisions?  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.


Or consider the money I've spent dining out proclaiming, "I deserve this!"  when actually, I just didn't want to confess to my friends, "I can't afford it."  I didn't want to be the only one who had less.


The truth is, every time I come home, I feel good...and guilty.   I've assembled, albeit on credit, a cozy nest that sometimes inspires visitors to remark things like, "Your home feels so welcoming!  I really like your style."  It's nothing fancy, but it's comfortable.  And, I absolutely love fine dining...the ambiance, the food, the company, the occasions.  I feel best when I'm dressed in something stylish and well-made, when my make up compliments what I've got, when my hair looks healthy.  I like taking care of myself that way.  


Most of what I purchase is on sale.  I don't have a television or expensive electronics (much to the little one's dismay), or even glittery jewelry.  But the price tag of what I do have increases each time a billing cycle assesses a percentage rate.


Of course I know none of that is essential to being myself, taking care of my son, or actually being and looking healthy.  But, a majority of my financial choices are made on the basis of measuring up to others, rather than just being myself.


At that same high school leadership camp last year, one of our junior councelors said something like this, "I spent most of high school acting in a way that I thought others would like so that they wouldn't judge me.  But, people judged me anyway.  It's human nature.  Then I realized their judgements weren't real...they were judging the person I was trying to be in order to be liked.  They weren't judging the real me.  That's when I figured out, I'd rather just be me.  That way, if I have to be judged, it's for who I really am, instead of who I'm acting like."  


He'd figured that out at 18.  Here I am at 36 and the meaning's just trickling in.  My financial state has been influenced by a fear of being judged incorrectly.  


Admittedly, one true judgement folks could make of me right now is that I've been financially irresponsible.  Funny how the truth is much less flattering than the facade I'd attempted to buy.


What would happen if I became financially responsible instead?  What would I think of myself?  What would I communicate to others?  And, perhaps most importantly, what would this model for my son?

Facing It

It's mighty hard to avoid facing the floor when one's nose is smooshed uncomfortably against it.  


And, that's where I find myself. Nose smashed upon the bottom of my bank account.  Again.


I'm familiar enough with this position - the tenseness it brings my shoulders, the crabbiness that infuses my interactions, the cockamamie schemes I daydream to bring quick fortune, the way my temperature rises when I'm at the market.


But, this time the credit's gone.  The options few.  And my pockets really, truly empty.  I'm scared.  And, embarrassed.  And, I realize no one but me can pick me up.


I'm a teacher and a single mom.  I live in a rented townhouse; I drive a 2002 Jetta Wagon that I still make monthlies on.  By no means is my life extravagant.  We have what we need to live comfortably.  But, little of it is mine free and clear.  Very little.


In our district, teachers are paid one lump sum at the end of June which includes salary for June, July, and August.  Should one neglect to budget, this could create a rather lush July...and destitute September. The story goes that I have neglected to make a budget, preferring to do the math in my head and guestimate what has been spent.  What has been spent is nearly everything.


Let it go on record, that math in my head has never been a strong suit.


What has also absolutely never been my strong suit, even from my first savings account and JC Penny charge card in 1987, is personal finance.  But, since having one's nose pressed this forcefully to the floor makes breathing (and sleeping, and thinking) too overwhelming to ignore, I'm hereby committing to picking myself up and gaining the skills that allow me to drive toward prosperity, that little tiny pin prick of a light a the top of this deep, deep hole I've dug.  


I know I'm in good company - a large portion of our nation is lying right along side me down here.  I read recently that the degree of simplicity in overcoming a challenge is directly proportionate to the degree the challenge is confronted.  With that in mind, rather than just floundering down here, I'm flipping over.


Let the confrontation and simplicity begin.  A change is everything.