Truth in Fiction

It's a sad commentary on the current state of our media that there's more truth and relevance in a satirical website than in actual news.

http://www.theonion.com/articles/child-entertained-for-5-minutes-by-plastic-toy-tha,36249/

I don't have kids yet, and I know that the know-it-all childless person has become a horrible cliche; nonetheless, I'm taking notes about how to raise kids in a simpler, more sustainable way, and disposable plastic junk is #1 on the list of things I plan to avoid with my future children.

One Thing After Another

The first year of law school is done! Unlike a lot of my friends, I jumped right into my summer internship without a break. In retrospect, I don't know what my hurry was, and I probably should have given myself a week to rest and recuperate, and to catch up on grown-up responsibilities. Lesson learned.

As you saw in the previous post, seeking out renter's insurance became a priority for us recently. I still haven't found the time to go into the insurance agent's office to set that up, but it's scheduled for Saturday. But when it rains, it pours (literally), and that wasn't the end of the plagues of Egypt around here.

The fire was massive, and destroyed a building with 16 apartments. Four fire trucks were spraying it down for hours just to put the fire out, and all of that water had to go somewhere. In this case, "somewhere" was the lowest point in our apartment complex, aka the storm drain in front of our building. Along with it, that water carried leaves and debris, and it clogged the storm drain. The next day, there was an unusually heavy rainstorm. We came home to find my husband's car halfway submerged in water.

Coincidentally, we were out at dinner talking about getting rid of the car while the flood was happening. We had gone car shopping the previous weekend (not with the intention of buying anything that day, but just to see what the options were). That same day, the check engine light came on, and the repairs were going to cost about $200 (on a car worth about $1200). We had concluded that we should just share a car for the rest of the summer and save up as much as we could. But carpooling didn't work so well. My car is a stick shift, which he isn't comfortable with driving, and I have to be at work before he does. As a result, I had to drop him off really early, and I still ended up being late. So we were stuck with the choice of fixing his car or purchasing a new one, and apparently the universe thought we needed a new car.

We went back to the dealership, and a new (used) Prius had just been traded in. Somebody had bought a new car, and given up this one which was less than a year old and had only 5,000 miles. It was the last day of the month and the dealership hadn't made many sales over Memorial Day weekend, so they were desperate to make a deal. We picked it up as a certified used for $3,000 under blue book. So far we've been enjoying the great gas mileage -- between 50 and 60 mpg on trips around town, high 40's on the interstate -- but every penny is going toward the payments. I paid off my last car in less than a year, and I intend to do the same thing here, even if we're down to ramen noodles for awhile.

Along with planning what we could afford, we had to look at finances. Another great coincidence -- my husband got a pretty nice raise the week we bought the car, so that will go a long way. But the other problem is his student loans. I didn't realize just how bad his loans were, but then we sat down and looked at it... are you ready for this... $149,000.  Crikey. He's looking for a public sector position (which he wanted anyway) so hopefully he'll have a new job that will qualify him for the public service loan forgiveness program by August when those come due.

How on earth did I get here? Five years ago I had no debt, a nice savings account, a growing Roth IRA, and everything I owned fit in my car. I love my husband, but he brought a giant pile of debt and crap with him. I'm back to the obsessive spreadsheet budget tracking that helped me pay off my car and grow my savings. We'll dig our way out. But it's going to take awhile.

I'm gaining a new appreciation for some of the old personal finance blogs that helped me. Man vs. Debt in particular is resonating with me lately, more so now that I have a household beyond just myself to maintain. I'm going to figure out how to put some sort of tracking app on this blog, for my own motivation if nothing else. But for now, this post has gotten way longer than I intended, so I'll end it here. Until next time.

You Don't Mean That

Quite often I hear people with junk-filled houses make navel-gazing comments about how they'd be better off if all of their stuff "just went away" or that a fire would be a blessing. I must admit that, sometimes when I look at the my apartment full of (husband's) junk and remember how free I was before I settled in and got married, I become wistful and start to have the same thoughts. Then one day last week, I came home to this:

That's not my apartment, although it very nearly was. That's the building adjacent to mine, and the fire was ignited by lightning. Sixteen apartments were destroyed, and sixteen families are now homeless. Renter's insurance here in the sunshine state has been hard to find since the catastrophic losses of the 2004 and 2005 hurricane seasons, and few if any of those affected here were covered. When I moved back here last summer, my insurer said they weren't writing any new policies and referred me to Citizens Property Insurance, the state-run insurer of last resort often associated with those million-dollar mansions on the beach. After taking a look at all of the paperwork involved in their application I put it on the back burner and forgot about it, but of course I'm working on it now (even though they say lightning doesn't strike twice).

 I don't want to say that I'm "counting my blessings" because to me that seems to imply that I'm more deserving of a home than others, as if some magical force is protecting me. Random, horrible things happen, and virtue is no protection. Maybe this is one of those lessons about detachment and impermanence, I don't know. But right now, some quote from Tyler Durden is likely of little comfort to those people.

The apartment complex has started taking donations for our displaced neighbors, and I've been gathering all of our extra clothes and linens. They're in the slow process of tearing the building down, but for now it's just an eerie, burnt-out shell haunting me every time I step out the front door. I think I still need some time to process my emotions about how this relates to my philosophies on life and the things I own. But seriously, you don't want your house to burn down, even if it is full of junk.