Every once in a while, life’s various complications (finances, relationships, or how to spend the day, week, month or year) all feel like they could be answered with a calculator and a few decent formulas. First you compound the interest then run a cost-benefit analysis between taking a loan and investing in high-yield dividend stocks, then set up a side-hustle, which combined with selling excess stuff and a bit of frugal living will lead to a vacation in some balmy tropics where you fall in love with a free-spirited island girl and while away the days below a slow and wide ceiling fan in the shade of a portico overlooking the surf. Or something ridiculous like that. I believe the proper terms are nesting, or getting one’s affairs in order. In these moments, for me, it feels like an over-abundance of focus is all it really takes to put life’s messiness into orderly rows, products facing label out on the shelf, or like sequencing a large project… first this, then that, and voila, success. It feels like a backwards design approach and a ass-pocket full of logic would do the trick… This is the goal, these are the steps towards the goal, these are the steps to get to the steps, etc. etc. until I pull at a few threads, everything unravels, and I find myself staring out the window (not at the beach), maybe drooling a little, and resigned to sink, with dignity, in my own mental quicksand.
I’ve been really out of sorts lately. This is almost exactly how I felt after moving to Memphis – though this time I’m perhaps a little less overwhelmed by the newness of it all. Here, there’s a level of familiarity that makes things easier. I’m familiar with the grocery store across the street, I know what streets go where, and I don’t have to find the kiosk to buy the laundry card and then find the laundry room…. but at the same time, familiarity makes things a little less exciting. I’m out of sorts because my sleep patterns are completely messed up. Two nights ago I fell asleep on the sofa at 8 and woke up briefly only to go to bed and then wake and feel ready to go at 1am. I’m out of sorts because I can’t find the time to exercise, or if I do, I don’t have the energy (and yes, I’m aware that exercise can help you feel more energetic). I’m out of sorts because I’m not making the time to read or write like I used to – it’s so much easier to endlessly scroll twitter and refresh google news. None of this is new. Because I’ve been through it before, I can expect it to last for another month or two. Though this time around, there is the added level of uncertainty caused by a pandemic and a wonky economy and the added isolation of being in a less populated area, with masks and social distancing.
This train of thought all started because the maintenance light on my car came on yesterday. That and because my defogger wouldn’t work and I had to pound on the radio to change the station. Winter is coming, I need new tires and I need to get the car inspected. After yesterday’s morning commute, I felt pretty decided that I would just trade the car in and get a new one. I thought about how nice it would be to have a GPS map in the dash or have it sync up with my music instead of having an fm transponder sticking out from the car outlet. When it comes to possessions, I don’t treat myself to many things. I tend to take a “this will do” approach. I try to use things until their usefulness runs out. Sure, the shoes might have a hole in the bottom, but they’re perfectly fine on dry days. My phone is at least three generations old and struggles to hold a charge but still works. My phone before that was three generations old. This morning, after breakfast and the news, I started looking at cars. I think I’d like a compact SUV. I still dream of getting a dog and the extra space to cart things around, including a dog, would be nice. For a moment, I luxuriated in the thought, “you know what, you’ve never really gotten nice things for yourself – always bought the baseline / economy models…” A modest house, a modest car, modest (almost nonexistent) wardrobe… maybe just this once… Then the sticker shock hit me. $30k over 5 years at close to 0% interest is still $500 a month. I’ve looked at houses that, with a decent down payment, would have only slightly higher mortgage payments than that, and you can reasonably expect to get some of that money back when you sell.
This is when I broke out the calculator and went down the rabbit hole. What’s the value of buying a car in cash vs. the interest I’d pay on a loan? Could $30k invested over 5 years beat the interest payment on a car loan? If I got a house, I might not need a car and then I could get the dog. The next thing I know, I’m looking at side-hustles and checking accounts that will pay me $200 to open an account (as if that’s a viable supplemental income strategy), and I’m exploring dividend stocks, and what I could sell, and trying to figure out how to put what little money I have to work for me. In this mode, I start to think about gathering resources. I felt this way a lot when my ex-fiancee had moved in. She had quit her job and we were trying to figure out the life we wanted to carve out for ourselves. It also puts in to perspective her somewhat cruel and privileged statement when she left that playing house was nice, but it won’t work. Clearly one of us was thinking about building a future together while the other was simply playing house. Bitterness aside, this is when I started to think about the end goals. What is the life I want to live? I’ve never believed money is the end. In fact, while I may be a hair shy of depression era frugal when it comes to possessions (that toothpaste tube has at least three more squeezes in it), I’m a lot less so when it comes to experiences. I’d happily spend all of my money to travel, eat, hear good music, explore, and live life.
This is also when I think about economic fairness. I’ve taken poverty workshops and the one thing they stress is the overwhelming amount of time people in poverty spend trying to figure out how to allocate their resources. When money is tight, there’s little room for error. The same can be said for most nonprofit organizations. Both work from a deficit mentality. In poverty, the puzzle pieces never quite fit and every decision has consequences – which can be mentally exhausting. Every now and then, I might lose a morning or a day to this type of thinking, but it is not a part of my everyday struggle. Yeah, a mortgage would be easier on two incomes. It’d be nice to not think twice about getting a new car vs. keeping the old one running. And while it’s not my everyday, it still feels like I should be able to calculate my way through some combination of prudent spending coupled with financial wizardry to something a little easier – to a point where decisions carry a little less weight and life has a bit more whimsy and a lot less hunker down.