Budget Basics

The summer I finished college, I quickly got a part-time job.  Don't misunderstand, though, this was not the kind of part-time job that helped me squeak by - the first few months, as I worked my way into more hours, I was making $300-400 a month.  Talk about being broke.

By the time the winter came, I was more in the realm of $600-800 - enough to keep my car rolling and make the minimum student loan payments when they kicked in while my parents covered everything else in my life.

The next spring, I got a promotion, and started making enough to put me above the poverty line.  I knew it was time to make a budget.

There are a million people and blogs out there that will tell you how to set a budget, and I did a lot of research before making my first budget.  Two years later, my budget has changed to reflect a growing income and changing student loan payments, but the main tenets have remained the same.  A budget is personal, so my budget theory is personal.  I believe a good budget should:

• Focus first on paying for necessities: rent, groceries, utilities, transportation
• Focus second on paying off debt.  NOT minimum payments, but aggressively paying it off.
• Be envelope-based.  This means that you intentionally set aside a certain amount to spend in each category (groceries, gas, clothes, enterntainment, etc) and when you run out of money in that category, you stop spending for the month.
• Think long-term.  If you're paying insurance every six months, calculate the monthly amount and include it in your budget so you aren't spending money you'll need soon.
• Reflect your priorities.  It's more important to me to build up a "romance fund" so I can see my long-distance guy than to buy new clothes, and the amounts I put in each category reflect that.
• Be zero-sum.  The total of your spending categories should equal your income.  Every dollar should go to a category, with no extra.  If you plan out each category and have extra, recalculate.  Give yourself a little breathing room in tight categories, add to your debt pay-down plan, or put the money in your savings every month.
• Hurt a little.  If your budget doesn't pinch a little and make you think twice about purchases, then it is probably not getting you toward your long-term goals (yes, you should have long-term financial goals).

If it's your first time making a budget, it can seem kind of impossible to figure out what categories to create and how much to put in them.  To help get started, I really like Dave Ramsey's Monthly Cash Flow Plan.  It lists more than 50 categories you should think about, and it offers "optimal" percentages to help you see what's reasonable or not.  Again, my percentages don't always line up because some categories are more important than others - I don't always agree with Dave Ramsey - but it helps me be more conscious of where I might be spending too much.

Triumphant Return

I've neglected this blog much too long. 

I could blame it all on being busy at work, but that's not honest.  The fact is, I've been pretty darn lazy over the last ten months, and when I'm not being lazy it's because I'm overwhelmed.  Or in some cases, dealing with emotions that I can't take captive.

Starting my new job last July was a whirlwind.  Being in event management full-time is exactly what I wanted, and I am so pleased to be back in the non-profit world.  Non-profit work, by definition, is mission-driven.  I am always emotionally connected to my work, no matter where I am. I need something to believe in that is more than the numbers  on my paycheck.

I'm now working at an RELC.  Don't know what that is?  Trust me, no one does.  RELC stands for Residential Environmental Learning Center.  In short, schools arrange to bring a group of students to our site.  They stay overnight (typically 3-day, 2-night trips), and we teach the students about a host of different subjects - everything from macroinvertebrates and sustainable energy to historical Ojibwe culture and teambuilding.  We also work with community colleges, universities, and private events like staff retreats and weddings.

My job is to schedule all of that.  After almost a year there, I can understand why my position was created; there used to be two people that were me, one who handled educational groups and one to handle private events.  Now I'm there doing both, and while I think it's going more smoothly (based on horror stories I've heard), it also means I have zero downtime.  While my ed department colleagues have a season from September to June (the school year), I have the ed season and all its busyness, followed by the absolute busiest season for private events.  So it goes.

There are struggles in my job, like any.  We've sadly lost staff members this year - one abandoned her contract for a new job, one was diagnosed with a rapidly progressing cancer, and another also fell ill.  We also had to wait ten months to fill a full-time position (we're still working on that one) and we turned over our entire kitchen staff.  Despite them, we've worked with over 1,000 K-12 students this year, and we have the thank you cards to prove they had fun and learned with us.  I'm not sure there is anything more satisfying than watching kids learn.

When the days get hard, I can take a break to check out views like this:



Like all things in life, there is so much beauty and joy inside of and despite the struggles.

Moving, Again

When I was a kid, we weren't one of those families that moved.  I never, ever had to change schools.  My family moved once, from a trailer house into a house, when I was a toddler, and that was all it ever was.  We swapped bedrooms a few times, rearranged furniture regularly, remodeled and remodeled and remodeled, even had our address change when the county installed rural street names, but my house was always my house.

From 2009-2013, I moved every three to nine months (thanks, college).  Honestly, I got to be a pro at it.  I could fit everything, including a tv, mini fridge, and microwave, in my Buick sedan.  It became a cycle of knowing when to unpack, what to leave behind, and when to start bringing things back home to make those last days of school less cluttered.

After graduation, I stayed with my parents for eleven months.  Then I moved again, into my new apartment onsite at my job, with no firm idea how long I would be there or where I would go after.

It's time to move again.  Almost 15 months later, I look around my apartment, and my thoughts are all about how to pack and which items can leave first.  It doesn't feel like I've been here so long, and yet every day I've been here also feels like a week.  So many things have accumulated in my apartment.  As my first time living alone, I supplied everything in this room, no more college roommates to split half of the household items with, and an entire space to hold whatever craft supplies and books and papers my heart desires.

With just a couple days left, I'm at the juncture of needing to pack and having zero desire to pack.  I've already taken home several boxes, and a few more are all ready to go, but I hate committing to what I won't need in the next couple of days.  Knowing how little time I will have to do any packing on move day is just making me that much more boxes in by the entire process.

The only good thing about packing and moving is purging.  I have already taken my garbage out three times this week.  Things that had gotten shoved on a shelf or mixed in with a stack of "keepers" are now exposed and on their way out.  Old catalogs? Recycled.  Dried up pens?  Tossed. Out with the old really does usher in the new - and I am so, so ready for the new.

But I still hesitate before I throw some things away, even some obvious things.  I know that I can be a bit of a hoarder, that I don't always let things go when I should, and I have those moments about the move and job as well.  This is where I'm comfortable, this is where I'm safe, and this is where I know my place.  It takes courage to change; I've never considered myself particularly brave.  But here we are.

"...If he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory or defeat."        --Theodore Roosevelt

Sometimes You Quit; Or, When Your Boss Cries

I have never quit a job.

Me leaving a job (with the exception of one time I was let go - the story behind which would be an entire blog) has always been inevitable because I was moving to college or home from college, a predetermined going away point that just tick-tocked closer and closer.

That changed this week.

Now, I have known my boss almost my entire life.  My brother and I went to school with her two kids.  She gave me my first job in high school.  She handed me my diploma when I walked across the stage at my high school commencement.  And while she's not exactly a friend, she has played a huge role in my life.  I appreciate the many, many things she has done to help me, especially in the last ten years, despite the fact that we often don't see things the same way.

There's a level of stilted-ness that comes about when you know your boss is trying to sell the business and that your job might not necessarily exist when that happens.  You have to watch what you say, because if the business doesn't sell, you still have to work for her, but at the same time, there are serious questions that need to be addressed.  Knowing if anyone has looked or mad an offer completely changes your timeline.  At the same time, though, you then become responsible for what you tell those below you - you need them to keep working and keep the business running, but you don't want to blindside them with a complete loss of income either.  It's a tightrope.

The tightrope is made thinner by the fact that I don't enjoy my job.  And not just because it doesn't challenge me or I don't enjoy the work, but because I have some fundamental struggles with decisions that are being made at the top and I am burned out from being on call 24 hours a day.

It is time for me to move on.  I know that, and I've felt it for a while, but I had a strange little plan of sticking out another nine months or so before really starting to look elsewhere.  Then a job opened up - not necessarily my Dream Job, but at least a dreamy one - in my desired field, with a raise and benefits.  It was a long road, but I got it.

And suddenly I had to tell my boss that I got a new job, when I hadn't even told her I was applying for one.  As I was telling her, all she could say was, "Ah, Sarah," in this keening way that reminded me of the way my dog whimpers when someone leaves without her.  "What are we going to do without you?"

I replied tongue-in-cheek and excused myself.  Only later that evening did I hear that after I left, her husband found her sitting at the desk, teary-eyed over my abandonment.  I can't say I'm surprised by this, but I wonder if maybe it isn't even more of a sign that I need to go somewhere else, that I allowed myself to become indispensable in a place where I had no desire to remain.

While she was crying, I was just happy for this chapter of my life to close.

Rejection, Acceptance, and Faith

I live on site at my job.  It's 26 feet from my apartment to my office.  This sometimes leads to awkward, strange mornings - me sitting at the desk taking a reservation when my boss unlocks the door on my day off, running for the phone still in a towel after my shower, or a renter knocking on my door having locked himself out.

Or, as it was about a month ago, a realtor trying to open my bedroom door.

Luckily, I lock the doors at night, otherwise the poor realtor, potential buyers (a high school friend of mine and her mom - seriously, small towns can get so damn awkward), and my boss would have had quite the sight.

The day the realtor woke me up was the same day I submitted a job application in a nervous, hopeful fog.  I had applied for this job once before, senior year of college when I still had a full semester of class ahead.  I never heard a peep.  A lot changed in two years, and I held my breath as I prayed over the process, sure that God's timing was so obvious here.

Three hours later, I had an interview.
The interview ended with them saying I had "an awesome set of skills."  They told me the decision would be three days.
Three days later, they told me three more days.
Three days later, the opportunity was gone.

They were very complimentary.  Basically, it had come down to me and someone else, and the someone edged me out.  If another opportunity came up, they would love to have me.

A nice rejection doesn't make you feel any less rejected.

I sat in the bottom of my closet and cried as I called my SO and my mom.  I ate an absurd amount of calories.  I bought some vodka.  I argued with friends, because sometimes they just don't say the right things and sometimes you just don't care enough to be nice about it.  And mostly, I felt crummy and boxed in and just not good enough.

7 days later, everything changed.

I was checking my email during a particularly slow moment at work.  The woman who would have been my boss made an appearance.  In essence, the someone else had backed out, and they wanted me - was I still interested?

Um, yes.


So now here I sit, filling my last two weeks before moving into The New, The Different, and The Unknown.  I spent those seven days resigning myself to staying where I was, to believing that the right thing would come, that there was a reason I wasn't "there" yet.  And now it's all changed again.  The world is so topsy-turvy sometimes, so hard to reckon with.  But I believe those seven days were good for me, if only to serve as a reminder that I need to accept myself and accept that I won't always be the best, the brightest, and the winner.

An Anniversary of Sorts

In less than a week, it will be one year since my college graduation. There's a part of my brain that doesn't accept this at all, insisting that twelve months have gone by in this flash of what feels like so much... Nothing. 

It seems like everything has happened to everyone else. My best friend is legally married (although the military means her wedding isn't until this summer). My other closest friend is working for AmeriCorps (I highly recommend) and has helped almost all of her students test out of needing her help. My brother and his girlfriend welcomed a stunning baby girl (and don't get me started on all the other people in my life popping out babies). Friends who don't even graduate college for another week have already accepted once-in-a-lifetime, following-my-passion jobs. 

It's hard to feel like you haven't gotten it right yet. Growing up, I was that girl that made all the right choices. When the girls in my class were out getting drunk, trying drugs, and getting pregnant, I was at home reading, studying, practicing, being bigger and better. 

It doesn't feel like it. Being back in my hometown, my tiny country town, means watching all these people I know make bad choices and still, magically, end up with all of the things I want but can't seem to get my finger on. 

And you know what? It's okay. 

Television, newspapers, bloggers, and more are slowly beginning to talk about post-college depression and how the current "real world" situation is making the transition difficult for grads. Everything from money and jobs to relationships and parents can make us feel like we're failing. 

But a lot of this we do to ourselves. We convince ourselves that where we are in the growth process isn't good enough or far enough. We tell ourselves we aren't doing enough, being enough, that we (or others) should be ashamed of what our life is right now. 

There's no shame in not finding a dream job the day after graduation. There's no shame in living with others while we sort out our finances. There's no shame in working for minimum wage. If we get up, day after day, and try – try something, anything that will make us grow, move us forward, or help us step up – even if we aren't striving for the things we planned on at 18, then we are succeeding. If you get an interview but don't get the job, you are doing better than some. If you live on Ramen while paying your loans, you have it better than some.

We cannot measure our daily lives by the big goals. We have to learn to measure  success by the daily achievements that get us infinitesimally closer to the big goals. Learn something about yourself, about work, about motivation, about others every day, and you'll get there. You will. Even if "there" changes by the time you arrive. 

Find, Apply, Repeat

For the last few weeks, I've been in "get it together" mode.  Which, as a recent grad, basically means trying to find a job that I can actually be excited about.  And one which, possibly, will mean that I can pay back my student loans AND eat more than Easy Mac for every meal (just kidding, I hate Easy Mac).  I should note that there is nothing painfully wrong with my current job; it's just that I'm currently only part time and minimum wage, so I'm feeling the pinch in more ways than one, and this isn't something I can picture building the rest of my life on.

So I'm in the cycle of applying for jobs, and there are a few things I will never understand.  Why do I have to fill out a full job history and include a resume?  How long do I wait before I assume you laughed reading my materials and threw them in the discard pile?  What exactly is the magic formula for filling out the "Salary Requirements"?  And why are you not required to give me a reason for saying no?

Yes, I started my Round I'm-Not-Even-Counting-Anymore search with finding my dream job - and I didn't get it.  Unfortunately, I discovered this information in the midst of a personal crisis and the day before my next application was due, an application for a very similar, very dream job-esqe position.

So the question isn't really "how do I keep doing the same process over and over" or "how do I make myself more appealing," it's "how do I not lose faith in myself when no one else seems to have it?"  I always thought there was a direct line between my dreams and me - work hard, stay honest, study a lot, be rewarded.  But somewhere between Summa Cum Laude At My Top Choice School and Everything I Really Want, I got derailed.  Maybe it's my fault for chasing a dream that got changed half-way through, or maybe it's just part of the process and all my fellow graduates who seem to have it together are just hanging out in the faux-green grass.

The only thing I know for sure is that I just need one chance.  Give me a chance, and you will find that the only thing I know how to give is all.

Crisis Control

Lately, my life feels like one big crisis.

I'm juggling three jobs, we've been remodeling for weeks (truly, it's been off and on for a dozen years, but this is one of our on periods, which are always full of stress), and every time we turn around, someone is going to the hospital or having some kind of test done.

How most days feel.

Except I never look this classy.

The result is a sense of chaos, rushing, and constant worry about whether or not everything is being covered.

And, weirdly, I'm thriving.

Over the years, I've realized that I have two speeds: wide-open, and snail.  If things are going by slowly, breezing along, I lack energy and drive to accomplish anything.  As soon as life gets complicated, though, I'm at my best.  I speed from one thing to the next, trying to never slow down, and purposely taking on more and more responsibility until that moment when the day ends, and I crash like Rip Van Winkle.

It's a kind of adrenaline, and I'm a junky.  I love being able to take control, to fix things, to come out the other side victorious.  It's the buildup, the necessity of thinking on my feet, that makes me feel I've truly accomplished something.  And so, as I go into the next several days of unknown hours at multiple jobs, I wonder just how healthy my personality is.

The Post-Vacation Cranks

Last week, I took a five-day, much-needed, long-awaited vacation with my significant other (long distance relationships require vacations).  It was, in a word, glorious.

And then I came back to reality.  Which means a week of babysitting, meetings, and motel work, all compounding the fact that I would do anything to be back on vacation.

Is it just me, or does going on vacation actually make real life harder to live?  I have had such a case of the post-vacation cranks that I quite frankly don't want to be around anyone but a few chosen people, none of whom are actually less than a few thousand miles away.

So, how do you, I, or anyone else go about getting rid of those return-related regrets?  Frankly, I don't know.  Keeping busy seemed to help temporarily, but today I'm going to try making a list of five things about being home for which I am grateful, in the hopes that an expression of gratitude will seep into my emotions.

1. The technology that lets me get in touch with loved ones across continents.
2. My pillow - I have a memory foam pillow that is so much better than anything you will put your head on at a hotel.
3. Not living out of a suitcase.
4. Being able to cook what I want instead of eating out (talk about a price tag) every meal.
5. A chance to make money, in the hopes of saving up for another vacation very soon!

You Might Be a Hotel Maid if...

I recently went back to work at the same motel where I worked in high school.  This Memorial Day weekend has been a typically busy holiday weekend, and I will have worked three cleaning shifts by the time the weekend is up.  I will say this: cleaning motel rooms does not get any easier, cooler, or less disgusting after college.  It does, however, leave me with a LOT of time by myself to think (I keep forgetting my iPod, so talking to myself happens), and I have come up with a list of idiosyncrasies that occur among hotel maids.  And so, a la Jeff Foxworthy, you might be a hotel maid if:

1. You can make a queen bed in under four minutes, but the bed you sleep in hasn't been made since you last washed the sheets (quite possibly a while ago).
2. You come home from work with pockets stuffed full of used dryer sheets that got folded into the laundry.
3. When staying at a hotel, you always tip the maid.
4. You haven't dusted your own home for the better part of a year.
5. You have a favorite cleaner for wood, tile, stainless, fiberglass, and carpet, but none of them are made by the same company.
6. You can spot a hair on the floor at twenty feet.
7. You can't accomplish anything if your hair isn't in a ponytail.
8. When staying at a hotel, you refuse to brush your hair unless standing on carpet (because it's easier to vacuum it up than wipe it off the bathroom tile).
9. You want to physically harm anyone with the audacity to actually use the in-room microwave.

Thank God I don't work for a chain.

I wear jeans and a T-shirt.

Any fellow maids out there?  What did I miss?

Be safe this Memorial Day!