Coffee Addict

Though I’ve long denied it, those who know me well tell me I’m a picky eater. It used to drive Kris crazy. When I started dating Kim, I told her I’d eat almost anything. It didn’t take her long to see that what I meant was I’d eat almost anything other than beer, coffee, mushrooms, and cruciferous vegetables.

Over the past year, I’ve made a conscious effort to face some of my food fears, and to overcome them. For instance, last May I started drinking beer, and now I actually enjoy it. (Beer is food, right?) I’ve also discovered the joys of kale and brussels sprouts. But perhaps my favorite new find is coffee. I started drinking coffee in August — tentatively at first — and am now a coffee addict.

I think the key to my conversion was starting with the good stuff. I was buying a bag of Stumptown Coffee for my brother’s birthday, and the barista offered me a free cup. I declined at first, but he was insistent. “Do you like tea?” he asked. I do. “Then try this coffee,” he said, serving me a cup brewed from Ethiopian beans. I was surprised to find I actually enjoyed it. Over the next few weeks, I tasted Kim’s coffee whenever she had it. Gradually my coffee aversion faded. In fact, I came to crave the stuff.

Now quality coffee is one of my favorite parts of the day. Every morning, I roll out of bed and go to the kitchen, where I pour about two ounces of grounds into my Chemex beaker. I boil a kettle of water, which I then pour over the grounds to produce several cups of awesomeness.

The trouble, of course, is that quality coffee is expensive. Some of it is crazy expensive. Stumptown has some great roasts that cost $30 per pound. Yikes. The local organic grocery has some good blends, but they still costs about a buck an ounce. That works out to roughly $2 per day to feed our coffee habit.

Note: Because I like to try new coffee, I just signed up for the subscription coffee service from BrewPony, which promises to supply quality Portland coffee on a monthly basis. Sounds like fun to me!

Kim is frugal by nature, and she hates how much we spend on coffee. But she also hates the cheap stuff. It’s a dilemma. But she’s come up with a way to tackle the problem: She wants to buy green coffee beans and roast them herself. There’s a place near my condo that offers classes in coffee roasting, and I think we’re going to take one. Who knows? Maybe in a few months, we’ll be enjoying great coffee that we’ve roasted ourselves — and saving money in the process.

To be honest, all I care about is that the caffeine continues to flow.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need another cup of joe…

Postscript: The next food fear I’ll face? Mushrooms. I hate mushrooms. Kim loves them. To give her a treat (and to give myself the best possible introduction to these vile fungi), we’ll soon have dinner at The Joel Palmer House, a local restaurant that specializes in mushrooms.

Ask the Readers: Finding Personal Health Insurance?

Today, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to use this blog as a means to do research for a forthcoming article for Entrepreneur magazine.

Your Money

I’ve been writing the monthly “Your Money” column for Entrepreneur for 2-1/2 years now, and it’s a lot of fun. It’s a chance for me to hone in subjects with laser-like focus. If you’ve read my stuff at Get Rich Slowly, some of the articles might be familiar. But I also get to cover new topics (like building a team of financial advisors).

The column is also fun because it’s a vastly different process than the one I’m used to. With blogging, there’s almost instant gratification. For instance, I’m writing this piece at 8:12 on a Thursday morning. It’ll be finished and online in about ten minutes. Nobody else will review it; I’ll just post it and let readers respond. Which you will. I’ll have feedback in half an hour.

With the magazine, however, there’s a long turnaround. My current article, for instance, is on peer-to-peer lending. I started doing research for that piece in early October, at the end of my trip to Turkey. I submitted the piece in early November. My editor polished the piece, it went to print, and it finally found its way online at the end of February. There’s one comment on the article. This article about that article may get dozens of comments.

So, as I say, it’s a different beast.

Anyhow, this is all a tangent. The real reason I’m writing today is to recruit your help for the article that will appear in the June issue of the magazine. I’m writing about how to find health insurance when you’re on your own.

Personal Health Insurance

There are a lot of perks to being an entrepreneur. When you work for yourself, you control your destiny: you pursue a project of passion while setting your own hours and working without a boss. But there are drawbacks too. Sure, you set your own hours, but you’re often working far more than you ever imagined. Many entrepreneurs are lonely, too, spending most of their days in isolation. And let’s not forget medical insurance!

In fact, I’d argue that medical insurance is currently one of the biggest barriers to entry for would-be entrepreneurs. I have several friends who are ready to leave their jobs to start their own businesses, but they can’t. They can’t afford the more than $1000 per month in medical insurance for their families.

Here’s a direct quote I jotted down from one friend last week:

If it weren’t for health insurance, people would be free to do so many things. My husband is tied to his job because we can’t afford to be without coverage. Even with health insurance, we pay a shitload of money for medical costs.

For many families, health insurance costs as much as housing.

In my own case, I’ve had to make some tough choices. When I was married, I was covered under Kris’s health insurance. I took it for granted. Now that I’m on my own, I carry an individual policy with a high deductible. That protects me from catastrophic crises (like a car crash), but I pay out of pocket for routine care. And I’m discovering that even routine care can cost a fortune.

Last week, for instance, I visited my allergist to discuss my rampant hay fever. The half-hour office visit cost me $250.50. The two-minute “surgery” to send a fiber-optic cable through my sinus passages cost $530. And the nasal spray the doctor prescribed to fight my symptoms cost $138.32 for fifteen doses. All told, I spent nearly $1000 to get temporary relief from my tree allergy. Next time, I’ll probably choose to suffer.

Or maybe it’s time to change my policy. I pay $144 a month, but I receive almost nothing in return. Maybe I need to bite the bullet, to pay $300 a month (or more) but have comfort in the knowledge that it won’t cost me $1000 every time I need to get allergy relief.

Share Your Story

So, here’s how you can help me. Do you pay for your own health insurance? Have you in the past? What sorts of advice can you offer other folks who need to do the same thing? If you’re willing to share your story (or to help others find affordable options), leave a comment on this article. And if you’re willing to let me chat with you for my article, be sure you use your real email address when commenting so that I can contact you.

I think there are a lot of folks out there who struggle with affordable health insurance, and this is a chance for us to help them. Let’s do it!

Note: Past GRS articles on this subject include Hunting for Health Insurance (which chronicles my search for health insurance last spring) and Health Insurance Options for the Self-Employed.

The Relationship Between Gratitude, Abundance, and Acquisition

My last post on combatting clutter brought a lot of interesting comments and several great suggestions. For instance:

Liz wrote: “We keep a large plastic tote in our living room and we drop items that are to be donated inside. Once the tote is full, we take the contents to Goodwill.” Great idea!

DH (who has been reading my blogs for years) suggested coping with clutter is a mental exercise: “[Becoming] highly organized and clutter-free or whatever…will never fully shield us from that underlying level of anxiety you speak of, JD. That’s just a myth that sells books and blogs. The key to dealing with the underlying anxiety is to transform the material of the mind first.” Commenters Moom and Lucille agreed.

Andrew shared a William Morris quote: “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.”

Dennis hit upon something I’ve learned over the past few years: “Invest in quality items. The few possessions I do own are of very high quality and will ultimately last many years with proper care.” KSR agreed.

And Mrs. Money Mustache provided a tip that I’ve been trying to put into place here at my new home: “Everything must have its place. If every object in your house has a place where it lives, then clutter is virtually gone.” Yes, indeed, this is true.

Perhaps the most insightful comment, however, came by email. After nearly a year together, Kim knows me pretty well. She noted — not for the first time — that my problem isn’t clutter. It’s acquisition. She wrote:

What I’ve witnessed is what I would call an aquisition problem. I’ve been very proud and impressed with your ability to let go of “stuff”, but you still bring home little things constantly, and I would say more often than pretty much any one I’ve ever been around.

You know what? She’s right. What’s more, this is merely one symptom of a deeper problem in my life. As my therapist noted in December, I operate from a scarcity mindset. Many of my decisions are predicated on the premise that I won’t have enough: not enough food, not enough stuff, not enough love. As a result, I’ve tended toward hoarding (ever since I was a boy). And of course, this leads to a compulsion to acquire stuff.

For the most part, I’ve managed to shake this scarcity mindset with regards to relationships. I’ve shifted to an abundance mindset instead. Maybe it’s time to make the same shift in other aspects of my life. Hell, forget “maybe”. It is time that I made this shift.

Early this morning, I had a long chat with my friend Jodi Ettenberg, who’s near the end of a sojourn in Vietnam. Among other things, we talked about attitude and gratitude. We took turns sharing how lucky we feel, how grateful we are for the lives we lead. She may not have a lot of money, but she’s been able to travel the world for the past five years, eating and exploring and interacting with people. I, on the other hand, have a lovely home, a fantastic girlfriend, and work I love. We’re grateful for our lives of abundance.

As I ran errands this afternoon, I thought about the relationship between gratitude and abundance. For a long time, I hated the world “abundance”. I associated it with the myth of the law of attraction. But over the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that there really is such a thing as an abundance mindset, and it’s very much tied to the ability to be grateful for what you have. As I pondered gratitude and abundance, I had an epiphany.

If an attitude of gratitude can change the way I view relationships with people, then maybe it can shift how I view my relationship with stuff. The next time I feel compelled to buy something — a candle snuffer, a drink muddler, a floor lamp — I need to take a moment to be grateful for the things I already have. I suspect that by doing so, I just might be able to put an end to my problem with ~~clutter~~ acquiring things.

It worked today, anyhow. One of the errands on my list was a trip to Costco. I need batteries, and I want lots of other stuff. But while waiting at the DMV, I took a few moments to think about all of the good things I have, and to ask if I really needed to go to Costco. The answer, unsurprisingly, was no. I stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few necessities, but today at least I was able to keep from bringing more stuff into my home.

Combatting Clutter

For years, I’ve been fighting a battle with stuff.

To me, there are two types of stuff. On a basic level, all of the things you own make up the stuff in your life. But you need some of these things. You need bedding and toiletries and dishes and cleaning supplies. The battle I’ve been fighting is with the stuff beyond the basics — all of the toys and gadgets and souvenirs and decorations and miscellaneous possessions that fill up my space and life. This is the stuff that’s been driving me crazy.

I first realized I had a problem with stuff when I began to travel about five years ago. I’m a light packer. When I travel, I take little with me. I’m able to survive with what I can lug around in a single carry-on suitcase. Living with only few things for several weeks can be liberating, and when I return home I’m often overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things I own.

In recent years, I’ve slowly been shedding my stuff. I’ve purged thousands of books. I’ve donated much of my wardrobe to charity. When Kris and I divorced, I intentionally took as little as possible with me.

All the same, my recent move to a new place reinforced that I still have a lot of stuff. Maybe not as much as most people, but more than I want. I have boxes of books and comics. I have stacks of CDs and DVDs. And I still have too many wires and gadgets. So, as I’ve unpacked over the past three weeks, I’ve done my best to thin things as I go.

But I need some stuff. And there’s other stuff that I want. Kim and I have been drafting an ongoing list of stuff I ought to acquire in order to make this place more livable. Here’s the real-life, honest-to-goodness list of stuff I want right now:

wireless speakers for the television
a candle snuffer
a wine rack
a drink muddler
a larger cocktail shaker
a citrus juicer
a mop and a bucket
a fire extinguisher
a floor lamp

Now obviously some of this stuff is useful and important. Without a mop and a bucket, my floors are going to get filthy. But a candle snuffer? Is that a needful thing? Or is it really, truly just stuff? Where do I draw the line?

I don’t yet know where to draw the line, but I’m beginning to get an idea.

Just the other day, for the first time in my adult life, every room in my house was clean and tidy. All of my stuff was put away. It felt awesome. My physical environment was free of clutter, and that made it so that my mental environment was free of clutter. It helped to reduce the underlying level of anxiety that I’ve come to realize is always present in my life.

I’ve decided that one of my goals will be to maintain this sense of inner calm by being certain that my home always has an outer calm. I want things to be neat and tidy. But in order to accomplish this, I can only have so much stuff. It can’t be pouring out of the closets and cupboards, overflowing onto desks and counters and tables and chairs.

I’ve also re-committed to pursuing quality. While sorting through the things I own, I realized that I have a lot of cheap crap (purchased in an effort to be “frugal”). Sometimes cheap crap is good. If I’m not going to use an item much, there’s no sense paying top dollar for it. However, for the things I use often, it makes sense for me to take the time to find the best solution, to pay a little more to get the best experience.

In short, I want to own fewer things, but I want the things I own to be of better quality.

I suspect I’ll be waging this war on stuff until the day I die. I don’t know of many people who ever win it. (The few I do know who seem to have won the war on stuff have done so through drastic measures. Tammy and Logan, for instance, won the war by moving into a tiny house. I applaud their victory, but that’s not something I’m willing to do for myself.)

I’m curious: How many of you feel like you’re fighting a war on stuff? How many of you are constantly wrestling with physical (and mental) clutter? What techniques have you found to help you fight the battle? What does not work? And do any of you feel like you’ve actually achieved a lasting victory?

Home Sweet Home

Moving always takes more out of me than I think it will. It takes more time and more energy than I budget for the experience.

Packed and ready to go…

Ten days ago, I received the keys for my condo. Since then, my life has been a whirlwind of activity. The morning after I got the keys, I recruited help to move my stuff from my apartment to my new home. Friends like Adam Baker and Becca Borawski did an awesome job of hauling heavy boxes (full of books) and heavy furniture down four floors and then up four floors. I’d only planned on five hours for the move but it took eight. (And I didn’t get everything done that I’d planned.)

Becca, Baker, and Kim helping with the move…

Kim — who was fantastic at filling in the gaps during Saturday’s move — then helped me unpack boxes on Sunday. We also took a trip to Ikea to pick up a few pieces of furniture. By the end of the weekend, we had a functional kitchen and living room, plus a mattress on the floor of the bedroom.

The first week in the new place felt a little bit like being in college again…

All last week, I worked on the condo. I continued to unpack boxes. Friends helped me pick up odd pieces of furniture here and there. On Tuesday night, my cousin Nick helped me move and install a washer and dryer. Almost. The dryer turned out to be more of a challenge than we’d anticipated. In fact, it’s still not completely functional (though I hope it’ll be usable by the end of today).

As Monday turned to Tuesday turned to Wednesday turned to Thursday, I raced to have my place clean and ready for a romantic Valentine’s dinner. Fortunately, Kim’s expectations were low. She wanted something simple, and that’s what she got. I ran out of time to have everything ready, so we ate our steak and salad at the bar.

The living room is now mostly finished…

Over the weekend, Kim continued to help me unpack boxes and put together furniture. Now here it is on Monday morning, and I’m still not completely moved in. The kitchen, living room, master bedroom, and master bedroom are finished, which is comforting. But the laundry room still doesn’t work (and I’m running out of clean clothes), the office isn’t complete (I need to print some stuff but can’t find my spare toner cartridge), and the back bedroom is filled with boxes of books. Plus, I still have a bunch of stuff at Kris’s place that I need to move.

The bedroom in a usable state. Still need to decorate, though.

I’m content, though. Even though things are still in disarray, my new condo feels like home. I love the condo itself, and I love the location. I’ve already hosted more people here in one week than I did during a year of living in the apartment.

On Friday morning, Kim and I strolled in the sunshine down the multi-use trail that’s right outside my door. We walked to the wildlife sanctuary, then up the hill to the next neighborhood over. We stopped at the grocery store and the hardware store. She stopped to pick up lunch at the Thai place. We talked about our plans for the future.

Living here is going to be fun!

How to Travel the World (Without Spending a Lot of Money)

This is a guest post from Matt Kepnes, who writes about travel and more at Nomadic Matt. His advice has been featured in The New York Times, CNN, The Guardian UK, Lifehacker, Budget Travel, BBC, and Yahoo! Finance among others. Kepnes is the author of the just-published How to Travel the World on $50 a Day.

When I first stumbled across Get Rich Slowly, I figured J.D. didn’t travel much. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it often on the site.

But as we’ve gotten to know each other, I’ve been excited to discover that he travels frequently. He’s hiked the Inca Trail, spent time in Turkey, and I hear he’s making big plans for a European trip with his girlfriend at the end of March.

As a travel writer and someone whose personal mission is to get others to travel more, I’m excited. Seeing people travel makes me smile.

Crossing the 4950-meter pass near Salcantay

J.D., crossing a pass near Salcantay, Peru

Blinded by Marketing

Since I write about travel, I field a lot of questions about the practicality of seeing the world. People always tell me, “I want to travel more, but I can’t afford it. It’s too expensive.” But you know what? It’s not.

Forget what you’ve read in magazines and seen on TV. Travel can be very inexpensive. The reason you believe it’s unaffordable is because of marketing. Giant resorts have advertising budgets to match; small hotels do not. If all you’ve ever heard of is posh resorts, that’s what you’re going to believe travel is about. It’s hard to unlearn a lifetime of mass marketing.

Discouraged by the perceived cost, many people don’t travel. But if you really stop to think about your destinations, you can see they don’t have to be expensive. After all, locals don’t hundreds each day to live at your desired destination. (Just as you don’t spent tons of money to live your everyday life.)

Just like me, J.D. and thousands of others have found that when you make traveling a priority, instead of being discouraged by prices, you can work around them. In doing so, you get to see behind the curtain and discover travel isn’t expensive.

How to Make Travel Affordable

What are your priorities in life? Maybe it’s travel, maybe it’s gardening. Whatever your priorities, don’t you do everything in your power to fulfill those desires? You cut out expenses in other areas of your life, rearrange your schedule, research the hell out of it, and do whatever it takes to make your dreams happen. You make your dreams happen.

That kind of prioritizing is what happens when people want to travel more. (J.D. would call this conscious spending.)

“Well,” you might say. “That’s easier said than done, Matt. Flights and everything still cost money.”

You’re right. Even if travel is your highest priority, without money and a plan, it’ll never happen. To make that dream come true more quickly, here are five financial tips to make your next trip happen sooner.

Separate needs from wants
Before you travel, you’re going to need to save. Nothing in life is free. There are many ways to cut expenses, but one thing that really helped me was separating my wants from my needs. A need is my electric bill; a want is Starbucks. By categorizing my expenses, I could cut out the unnecessary expenditures and really watch my travel fund grow. If I didn’t need it, I didn’t spend money on it. Before I knew it, I’d saved enough money to travel.

A reader of mine recently saved over $14,000 while working a minimum wage job as a fry cook. If he can do that, so can you.

Think outside the box
Want to visit Europe but can’t afford Paris or Italy? Head to Eastern Europe, where prices are cheaper. Want a tast of the tropics but Fiji’s too far and Costa Rica’s too touristy? Head to Nicaragua, which has beautiful weather and lower prices. Visit Cambodia instead of Thailand, or see South Korea instead of Japan.

There are always cheaper and safer alternatives to the world’s top travel destinations. We think of the big names first because they’re always talked about; there are just as many great places out there that you haven’t heard of and don’t have the crowds.

Game the system
Travel hacking is the best way to make luxury trips affordable. Travel brands offer so many ways to gain loyalty points that you can easily rack up tens of thousands without ever having to travel. This is an oft-discussed method of traveling but with good reason: It works extremely well.

If you really want to make your next trip happen sooner, get a travel-related credit card, sign up for a frequent flier and hotel loyalty system, and accumulate points like there’s no tomorrow. Moreover, don’t forget to sign up for newsletters so you can find out when there is an offer of 1000 points for taking a survey. Good resources for finding the latest point deals are:

J.D.’s note: Matt mentioned that I’ll soon be traveling to Europe, and he’s right. One way I’m going to keep costs down is by booking my flights using air miles I acquired by applying for a credit card two years ago. Another way is by using Airbnb to book lodging.

Think local
Travel doesn’t always need to be to some far off and exotic destination. Travel, to me, is about getting outside your comfort zone and exploring what you’ve never seen before. That could mean heading to Fiji or visiting the state next door.

If you don’t have a lot of time, driving somewhere for the weekend can give you a travel fix and still allow you to see something new. The U.S. is such a diverse country geographically that you don’t have to go far to feel like you’re somewhere entirely new.

Depend on the kindness of strangers
There are many hospitality websites that help travelers find free places to stay, as well as free guided tours around their destination. The most common are:

Couchsurfing is probably the most popular, but each of these websites connects you with locals who will give you a free place to stay. If you’re not quite comfortable with that, you can still use the sites to arrange meet-ups and plan social activities with locals.

Staying a while longer in one place? Try house sitting. Have a home? Swap it with someone in the destination you are going to visit! Both methods allow you to eliminate accommodation expenses and save more money.

Final Destination

Traveling is about goals. Like everything else in life, without a good plan, you’ll never reach your goals. My hope is that you can see there are many ways around the “high prices” of travel. It’s easier than you think to make travel happen. These five tips alone can cut hundreds of dollars from your trip — and they’re just a start.

I used to work an entry level job but I prioritized travel and made it happen. J.D. makes travel happen. Every year, millions of others make it happen. Now, I want you to take these tips and make it happen too!

House Hunting, part two: Finding a Place

It’s going to be an exciting and busy week for me.

Several weeks ago, I mentioned that I was looking to buy a new place to live. After a year of living in an apartment, I had a good idea of the place I wanted to find. Plus, the Portland real estate market seemed to have hit bottom — and had even begun to climb.

Throughout the fall, I worked with my real-estate agent, Andi (a former Get Rich Slowly reader). While she and I focused on finding a property that appealed to me, I struggled to find financing. Because interest rates were so low, I wanted to obtain a mortgage.

Ultimately, I gave up the idea of financing a home purchase. Despite the fact that I had ample cash in savings, no bank would give me a loan. I didn’t have enough income to qualify. If I wanted to buy, I’d have to pay cash. It took some time, but eventually I realized I was willing to do so.

Feels Like Home

During my first three months of house hunting, I’d seen one place that really appealed to me (but it sold in 24 hours, and while I was on the road), and had failed to find financing. It was frustrating.

After Christmas break, Kim and I spent a Sunday with Andi looking at condos in northwest Portland. The following week, Andi and I found a few more to explore. There were a couple I liked, but I didn’t fall in love with anything.

On my last day in Houston, I woke to find a listing I liked: a condo in a building where I’d already seen one unit. The first unit had appealed to me, but Andi and Kim both noted that it was directly underneath one of Portland’s major bridges, a bridge currently undergoing construction — and scheduled to be under construction for the next two years. “That’d be a deal-breaker if I were buying the place,” Kim said.

The new place was on the opposite side of the building. Plus, it was on the top floor. Plus, it was a little bigger. “I like this condo,” I told my host in Houston. “I’ll have to look at it when I get back to Portland.”

The real issue was that I’d mentally decided that I was only willing to spend $300,000. When I thought I could get financing, my budget was $400,000, but because I’d have to pay in cash, I’d mentally adjusted my price range. The new place was listed for $329,000. I decided to take a look anyhow.

The condo felt right almost immediately. Though staged in a plain and simple manner, it felt like home. I loved the view of downtown Portland (distant though it was) and the view of the river. I liked the layout. I liked certain features in the kitchen and bathroom. Most of all, there was something about the energy of the place that just felt right to me. “Let’s make an offer,” I told Andi.

Making an Offer

We spent a day trying to decide on a figure. I felt like $329,000 was a little too high. Plus, I’m a frugal fellow. We decided to submit a purchase price of $310,000.

As we were drafting our offer, we got word that somebody else was making a bid. “Crap,” I said. “What do we do?”

“That’s up to you,” Andi told me. “But in a competitive situation, you don’t want to be seen as lowballing.” In the end, we offered $325,000.

Our offer was refused.

Andi called me back with the news. “The sellers want ‘best and final’ offers by noon tomorrow,” she said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means they have at least two of you bidding on the place. Maybe more. And they want you to give them their best price now.”

I spent that evening doing a ton of research.

How much did other units in the building sell for?
What about other properties in the neighborhood?
What were prices like for other condos in other parts of Portland?
What could $325,000 buy me in a nice part of town? A lousy part of town?
What about $350,000?

I called Kim and talked things out with her. I also called my friend Mike, who owns investment properties in town, and asked his opinion. Then I sat down and worked out numbers. How much was I willing to pay for this place? What sort of difference did it make that I was paying cash instead of financing? (When you pay cash for a property, you’re essentially shifting your investment from one asset class to another. That’s a very important distinction.)

Ultimately, I decided I was willing to pay $342,000, so that’s what I offered.

My offer was accepted.

Failed Negotiations

From there, things got a little interesting. The home inspection was mostly glowing. We did not perform an appraisal because the sellers balked at that requirement when we submitted the offer. After we’d combed through the reports and documents, we found a handful of things that bugged us. (Plus, we were cranky about some sleight-of-hand regarding a storage unit.)

As the deadline for my decision approached last week, we took everything we knew about the property into account and reduced our offer to $336,000. The sellers refused to budge. They exercised a “take it or leave it attitude”. I asked Andi what that meant.

“We believe it means that the other offer (or offers) the sellers received were very near your offer,” she told me. “They don’t care if you back out because they have a backup offer that’s just as good. In fact, I think it’s likely that the backup offer may have been better. In any event, it’s almost certainly at least $336,000.”

In true J.D. fashion, I agonized over what to do. I could afford $342,000 instead of $329,000. My research indicated that the condo was worth the higher price. Plus, there was at least one other offer that supported that valuation, as well. Still, it bugged me to have to pay a premium for the place.

In the end, I elected to stick to my guns. I loved the condo, and I especially loved the location. I agreed to pay the $342,000.

Closing the Deal

On Tuesday, I’ll sign the documents for the purchase of the condo. On Friday, I should take possession.

It’s all very exciting, but it’s also a little scary. After months of moving in slow motion, the final part of the process happened at warp speed. “You don’t seem that excited about your new place,” Kim told me last Thursday. I am excited, but I’m also overwhelmed. I don’t feel like I’ve had time to process everything. I’ve done a lot of second-guessing myself.

But I also realize that if this doesn’t work out, it’s not a $342,000 mistake. The money hasn’t evaporated. It’s simply been shifted from stocks (which seem to be high right now) to real estate (which seems to be low right now). If there’s any mistake here, it’s on the order of $5000 or $10,000, not $342,000. (That’s still a lot of money, but not an obscene amount.) Besides, I’m certain there’s another buyer out there who’s willing to pay $336,000 for the place, and that gives me comfort.

Managing Mom’s Money

My mother is sixty-four. She’s struggled with mental illness for over a decade. About eighteen months ago, my family came to the tough conclusion that Mom needs constant care. Though she’s still relatively young, we found help for her at a nearby assisted-living facility.

Mom is doing better now that she has round-the-clock professional care. In the meantime, her three boys have been watching the homefront. We each have our own responsibilities.

Every month, for instance, I pay Mom’s bills. You’d be surprised at how much it costs to keep a house, even when nobody’s living in it. It costs $250 every month for electricity, maintenance, and more. Plus, it costs $4118 per month for the assisted-living facility and there are a host of medical expenses (even after health insurance).

It’s not the big expenses that worry me, though — it’s the little things that have a tendency to slip through the cracks.

When I took over Mom’s finances eighteen months ago, I found a number of odd recurring charges, both to her credit cards and her checking account. When I began calling the phone numbers listed on the statements, I discovered that most of these charges were different types of credit and life insurance.

I was able to cancel a couple of these charges by phone, but most required more effort and more detective work. In other words, they needed more time. Because time is scarce in my life, I put off the problem until the next month. And the next. And the next. Eventually, a year slipped by, during which time I continued to diligently pay these miscellaneous fees.

Finally, last Tuesday I took action. I spent an entire morning calling around in an attempt to cancel these charges. I didn’t have much luck.

While companies make it easy to obtain services, it’s much more difficult to quit. I’m certain they didn’t ask Mom for any sort of ID verification when she signed up, but in order for me to cancel, it’s not enough that I know her name, address, birthday, and Social Security number. It’s not enough that I have Power of Attorney. In order for me to cancel, they need me to sign forms, to fax copies of the Power of Attorney, or to have my mother herself grant approval. So, my work isn’t finished yet.

I also discovered that Mom has six different life insurance policies through two different companies. “I wonder why she has so many policies,” I said to my brother. “She doesn’t even need one — nobody relies on her income, so there’s no need for her to have it.”

“You have to be careful,” my brother said. He’s been getting Mom’s mail. “I’ve noticed that sometimes these places send what look like bills, but if you send in payment, you’re actually signing up for yet another insurance policy. It almost fooled me once. There’s no way Mom would have caught it. No wonder she has six different life insurance policies.”

Together, these life insurance policies are costing Mom nearly $1500 per year. And for what? We’re not sure. We can’t find any sort of documentation, so we don’t know what her coverage is.

After spending a few hours digging into her accounts, I was able to track down about $2500 of wasted annual expenses. No, that’s not a fortune, but it’s enough to pay half of one month’s rent at her assisted-living facility.

Mom doesn’t have a lot in savings. She only has about $25,000 total to her name. Because she’s the president and majority owner of the family business, she receives an income every month, which — coincidentally — comes to about $4000 after taxes. That’s enough to pay for her room and board.

The bottom line is that Mom isn’t even treading water financially. She’s losing a little bit every month. Her meager savings are being eroded by a variety of unnecessary small recurring expenses.

My experience has made me much more aware of the difficulties older people face when it comes to money. My mother believed she was doing the right thing when she signed up for an $8/month credit protection service through her credit card, but it never occurred to her that the $96/year was largely wasted. If she’d asked me, or if I’d talked with her, I could have explained that there are other, free ways to monitor her credit.

If you have aging parents, take the time to talk with them about money. Ask if they need help with their finances, if there are any questions you can answer. Volunteer to go through their credit card and bank account statements, searching for unusual charges and suspicious activity. Pull their credit reports to be sure everything’s as it should be.

Detox

As part of my renewed focus on fitness, I’m doing a 30-day detox. Since January 6th, I’ve had no caffeine, no alcohol, and no manufactured drugs of any sort. The experience has been…interesting.

I’m also trying to eat healthier than I usually do. I started with a day of fasting followed by a three-day juice cleanse. Since then, I’ve tried to avoid processed sugar (truly my one great weakness) and to up my intake of fruits and vegetables. It helps that Kim loves veggies, and that she’s teaching me to prep and eat them in lots of tasty ways, but getting enough vegetables is still tough for me.

Anyhow, as I said, the detox is interesting. There’s no question that I’m much more alert mentally than I have been in the past few months. My mind is active and agile. I’m able to process a lot. There are obvious advantages to this, but there are disadvantages too.

You see, left to its own devices, my mind will spin and spin and spin without ceasing, morning, noon, and night. This is great when I need to get work done, but it’s not so fun when it’s time to sleep. Before this detox, part of my bedtime routine was to take melatonin and/or diphenhydramine (Benadryl) and/or a small glass of alcohol. This helped me to fall asleep. Without these crutches, I tend to lay in bed thinking deep thoughts until the wee hours of the morning. As a result, I’m tired most of the day.

But I’m tired for other reasons too, and I’m not sure why. Even when I do get a good night’s sleep (which happens maybe twice a week), I find myself dragging from the late morning until bedtime. For instance, it’s just after noon right now, and I’m exhausted. I feel like I could go sleep for three hours. I just got back from the gym, and I had absolutely no energy there. My workout was slow and sluggish.

I’m not sure what all of the implications are here. Have I been using caffeine and alcohol so long that my body can no longer operate on a normal cycle without assistance? Are the damned eternal Oregon winters acting as an anchor in my middle age?

There are other interesting effects of this detox too.

I didn’t used to drink alcohol. From the time I graduated college in 1991 until late 1999, Kris and I steered clear of beer and wine and liquor. Then, in late 1999, I suffered a couple of panic attacks. I was anxious all of the time. Believe it or not, my doctor recommended I start drinking wine in order to relax.

Since then, I’ve become a social drinker. I’m very aware that alcohol “takes the edge off” for me, allowing me to ease into group situations. A couple of weeks ago, for instance, Kim and I attended a holiday party for her dental office. The conversation was tentative at first, but as people sipped their wine and cocktails, the talk became looser and more natural. Except that I didn’t have any alcohol, and so remained a little on edge all evening. I’m not sure if others noticed it, but Kim did.

I told my therapist about this incident. She encouraged me to learn how to take the edge off without alcohol. That makes a lot of sense, of course, but I’m not sure how to do this. (Actually, this goes to the core of what I’m discovering in therapy: I put a lot of pressure on my self all of the time, so that I’m naturally tense and anxious in most situations. I need to learn how to relax.)

Part of me wants to end this detox early, after only twenty days instead of thirty. It’d be easier. I could go down to the coffee shop on the corner right now and order a coffee, which would jump-start my energy and help me to last through the day. Then when I see Kim tonight, we could share a bottle of bubbly as we talk about what happened during our weeks. Plus, I could then use melatonin and Benadryl to fall asleep.

I’m not going to do that.

It’s a Big Deal for me to be able to make it through this detox. I only have twelve days left. I feel like even taking a sip of coffee or beer would be a sign of weakness. Maybe that’s silly, but it’s important to me to see that I’m strong enough to do this for thirty days without compromise.

Meanwhile, I’m going to take steps to figure out why my body seems to be so fatigued. Maybe it’s just age, but I don’t think so. I have an appointment with a naturopath on Monday morning, and I’m going to have her do bloodwork. I especially want my hormone levels tested.

I’d love to hear from some of you about your experiences with this sort of thing. Have you ever done an extended detox? What was it like? What did you learn? Do you see a naturophatic physician instead of a regular MD? Why or why not? And if you’re getting on in years, what advice do you have for those of us who are reaching our mid forties? What can we expect? What should we watch for?

Brace Face

For years, I’ve wanted to get braces. But for years, I’ve been reluctant to do so.

In 2009, as I started doing more radio and television appearances for Get Rich Slowly, I began to grow self-conscious about my teeth. Actually, I’d been self-conscious about them for a while. Each of us has some part of body that bothers us (and sometimes more than one part); in my case, it was my teeth. (And my sensitive skin. I hate my sensitive skin.)

I asked my dentist about the possibility of getting braces. She agreed it’d be a good idea. We even went so far as to have impressions made for the orthodontist. But I never followed through. I decided I was just being vain.

Over the past three or four years, though, my teeth have continued to bother me. I’ve gone so far as to adopt a dorky toothless grin, especially for photos. (Actually, many people have noted that I don’t smile in photos. That’s for a couple of reasons, one of which is that I’m self-conscious about my teeth.)

My dorky “smile without smiling” smile.

Last spring, I started dating a dental hygienist. She never said anything about my teeth, though, until last fall. She was cleaning my teeth when she pointed out that an orthodontist could fix my crossbite. The dentist she worked for agreed, and he urged me to see a local specialist. So I did.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been consulting with the orthodontist, talking with Kim, and weighing the decision. It’s true that my bite is messed up and that my teeth are mis-aligned, but the orthodontist says I’m not causing any damage. I could go on indefinitely like this if my teeth don’t move anymore. If.

During the decision-making process, I talked with my friend Matt. He recently got braces too, and he’s nearly as old as I am. It was this conversation more than anything else that made me comfortable committing to the process.

This is the bottom line: My teeth affect my confidence. Perhaps that’s sad, but it’s true. I want to be able to smile without inhibition. I want to feel good when meeting new people or appearing on television. I want my teeth to be as normal as possible.

So, on Tuesday I got braces.

Newly installed braces on a 43-year-old man.

The orthodontist says I’ll have the braces for at least two years. I’m okay with that. So far, I haven’t had any pain. The real challenge has been learning to eat again. Eating with braces is very different than normal eating. Usually when we eat, we don’t even think about it. With the braces — at least for the first two days — I think about every bite. I’m conscious of where I’m chewing and how. And once I’m done eating? Hoo-boy! It’s quite a production to brush and rinse to make sure my mouth is clean.

And as always happens, now that I’m a 43-year-old man, lots of people are telling me their stories about having braces as an adult. Who knew it was so common?

Now if only I could fix this doggone sensitive skin. Shaving is hell!