Monday, January 16, 2017

7 Days In

Something is going on. That eerie feeling when things are just a little too easy when they shouldn't be. Anxiety spiking while opening doors or rounding corners as you expect the unexpected to jump out and gobble you up. Well, no monsters have jumped out, and I haven't broken down into an emotional pile of plasma straining over the make or break decision...to spend or not to spend.

Being just past New Years, the conversations around the office occasionally jumps to resolutions. I have let a few people onto what I am up to and a few conversations are sticking with me.

The first was with a close group of co-workers I spend much of my time with. They broke out into a litany of accusations, tips, judgements and support. I realized during this conversation that they way my wife and I are living, just in terms of food spend, is outrageous. One of this group spends $385 per month between his girlfriend and him. The other, whose diet consists of frozen pizzas, PB&Js and rice beans spends a measly $85 per month!! Compared to the $920 my wife and I have been budgeting, I felt outright stupid. Though I was flush with embarrassment, I appreciated the data points, and along with the Bureau of Labor Statistics findings I couldn't hide from the reality of our consumption anymore.

So we set off on our first week on an incredibly average food budget and here were the results:
The week started strong with an awesome date-night outing with my wife ($60) and an expertly planned grocery list to last 5 meals and leftovers. I was blown away when paying at checkout at the price of the haul ($54.90).  The cart felt just as full, and this is about 2 more meals then we usually purchase. It was all organic and with tons of produce, so what the hell happened.  I hypothesize 2 things: simple meals and shopping the deals.

I do all the cooking in this house, and I love to cook complete meals that are rich, comforting and balanced. Sometimes this goes over board.  We throw out a lot of food that just never got used.  Brussel sprouts I wanted as a side for baked fish, but then forgot about when putting the meal together, or spoiled butter-milk remains from the 1/4 cup I needed to marinate fried chicken. This week I tried to stay with meals where we had some of the ingredients we needed on hand and with complimentary ingredients. I also tried to give myself a break adding in 2 no-frills meals, BBQ Bean Burritos from Thug Kitchen and Chicken Tacos, and cutting out some of the plate filling and time intensive sides.

When I got home my second hypothesis didn't seem like a huge success.  I spent about 30 minutes on the King Soopers app before making our meal list looking at what was on sale and downloading coupons.  The result was an $8.15 savings or 13% off, which now looking over my receipts from that trip feels like a big win. That will allow us to squeeze an extra $75 per month of food value into our budget, nearly $1,000 per year!!

Then came the later-in-the-week disappointment.  My wife was home sick all week and needed to get out of the house come Friday.  I was sent to work with a list of things she had found during the week at home we needed and ingredients for a "cute" Pintrest appetizer.  Much was essential, but those little fucking hors d'oeuvres pumped up the tab $20.50 plus a bottle of $14 Pinot Noir on top of that.  Pintrest is the frugal man's arch nemesis, the anti-anti-consumerist tool for mind manipulation.  Those little fucking tiles mocking your sloppily plated chili, and looking smugly down on your lack of corn bread, cilantro, sour cream, bacon bits, smoked cheddar and scallion toppers.

Oh yeah, that second conversation. The exchanged boiled down to this final quote after a dozen or so minutes of me sharing the details, "I'm confused. What are you doing?" This prompted me to look back at my plan and ask similarly, "What am I trying to do?" We are taught to have goals and aspire to them. This cleanse is based on those teachings, and has so many goals intertwined inside of it that it's hard to make out what exactly it is...even for me looking back at it right now.

Contemplation aside, I guess I can't put words yet to what I am trying to do with this. I just don't know it simply enough yet.

The journey continues,
Le Fruggimalist



Sunday, January 8, 2017

90 Day Consumer Cleanse

“To be content with little is difficult; to be content with much, impossible.” ― Marie von Ebner-EschenbachAphorisms
The overwhelming urge to go buy something creeps up on me often.  I'm not sure exactly how, but quickly I'll find myself researching, justifying, calculating and contemplating the purchase of some thing.

One too many times I give into my relentless, internal interrogation. I drive to the store or click submit and at some point I'm staring at a thing that surely won't live up to the hope I had for it, or more accurately the hope I had for the way it would make me feel. I watch money evaporate from my bank account on a 30-day delay, further removing me from the implications of my decision. There it sits, ultimately making its way into one of our overstuffed closets for the disappointment to be forgotten and the cycle repeated.

Well not any more.
“The things you own end up owning you. It's only after you lose everything that you're free to do anything.” ― Chuck PalahniukFight Club
My wife and I have experimented with fasts and cleanses before. While I'm not sure if I have ever successfully purged myself of toxins, the feeling of emptiness in your stomach makes every passing second drag on for an eternity, leaving lots of time for contemplation without distraction. What I've always gotten out of these is an acute, temporary awareness to the unconscious behaviors I've programmed in myself. The subject matter to date has been food, and now I'm going to try and apply the same method to stuff.

I'm going on a 90 Day Consumer Cleanse where I'll make no purchases outside of the basic needs. "Basic" as described in Maslow's Hierarchy: food, water, warmth, rest, security and safety.
Saul McLeod, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, Simple Psychology

Since we own our house complete with locks, a furnace, a bed and running water, the only spending category we'll have is food. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics 2015 Consumer Expenditure Report the average US household spent $7,023 per year on food, or $585.25 per month, with 43% of that spend taking place away from home.  Our current budget allows for $800 per month in groceries and $120 per month, 13% of total spend, away from home.  To work on the spend less portion of my manifesto, I'll match the 2015 average of $585.25 per month, a 36% reduction in our overall budget, worth $4,000 per year, while maintaining our 13% away from home budget, or $76 per month. Yikes.

Like with any cleanse I'll be in close observation of myself and will redirect myself to "healthier" alternatives when the craving for a good spending spree pops up. One of those healthier alternatives I have lined up already is some minimalist decluttering activities. Along with the spending cleanse, I am going to pile on the objective of reducing my material possessions by 60%.  If it doesn't add value to my life and I can't easily get it to the point of adding value it's gone. Should make for a pretty epic spring yard sale.

Party On,
Le Fruggimalist

Monday, January 2, 2017

Le Fruggimalist Manifesto

The lazy river is by far the worst attraction at any water park. Slowly meandering on an endless conveyor belt, small cuts from the seams of the raft and sore pink skin are the only things ventured, so consequently very little is gained. The gin-clear waters hold no surprises; nothing lurks in its shallows. A moment occurs during this monotony where you look beyond the concrete edges and wonder what in the hell you are doing here.
"Only dead fish go with the flow." ― Andy HuntPragmatic Thinking and Learning: Refactor Your Wetware
This meek looking purgatory is metaphorically where I find myself today. I've been on the frugal/minimal journey for a few years now and thought that I had been doing a pretty good job of it.  My wife and I max out our 401ks and IRAs; I incessantly read Mr. Money Mustache, 20-Something Finance, The Minimalists and any other content on the subject; we live in a modest 1,100 square foot house; we set budgets and are relatively successful in following them. I've known for a while now though that we, namely I, can do better. Our budgets are inflated, our restaurant spend is roughly the same as what we spend on groceries, despite minimal shopping budgets we have shit pouring out of every closet and from under every bed in our house, and we can't seem to squirrel away much more of our income after bills. We are also talking about starting a family this year and having our first child over which looms the $15k per year child care price tag.  

It's time to get serious about this and make a dramatic change so that I can support my dreams of early retirement and of having a loving, well taken care of family.  I've landed on three ideals to guide me along the way: Lean, frugality and minimalism.


Lean...provide perfect value through perfect processes that results in zero waste. In my career I implement lean and other process improvement methodologies to achieve these results for a company, why not do it for me?  I'll be looking for opportunities in my life through experimentation, visual management and a host of other lean tools to reduce waste and increase the value added in my life. The leading question being, "What is value for me?"  I'm not completely sure, but in true lean fashion we won't let that hold things up because perfect shouldn't get in the way of progress. So to start, I'll be defining value as the following: dollars in my pocket - the more the merrier, happiness - something I'll be observing closely about myself to understand what creates the feeling, health - to allow me longevity and capability in achieving happiness, community - "Happiness is only real when shared" (John Krakauer, Into the Wild), and love - intimate appreciation of another.


Frugality...the economical use of resources…or, a nice way of calling yourself cheap. This is where the personal finance themes will come from. Though I am not a financial advisor* it is impossible to achieve what I am trying to without exploring the financial ramifications of choices.


Minimalism...

"Minimalism is a tool to rid yourself of life’s excess in favor of focusing on what’s important—so you can find happiness, fulfillment, and freedom." ― What is Minimalism?, The Minimalists
I'll be implementing this tool to purge the consumer instincts from my feeble human shell and hopefully get our closets to a more manageable state.

I've learned that I can talk myself into just about anything without having someone to answer to.  Writing this all down for posterity is my attempt at that accountability.  I'm going to make my life choices an open book and expect that in doing so I'll get the nudges that I need to talk myself out of dumb shit I otherwise would have convinced myself is justified.


Thanks in advance for your questioning, mentoring and abuse along the way.


Waste Less, Spend Less, Use Less

Le Fruggimalist


*Please consult a professional before applying my conclusions. I'll attempt to do due diligence, but cannot be responsible for risks others take in applying my interpretations to their situations.