Category: Life

I read a very interesting post this morning by Emily at Emerging Personal Finance called ‘I’m not going to rob you‘ (you can read my comment too).  It spoke to me as last night, I reflected on my voluntary commitments whilst at the State Emergency Service (SES – like FEMA). On Sunday night I’d felt overwhelmed with what I wanted to achieve after work this week.  That overwhelmed feeling is something I’ve written about here, where I listed all my commitments outside of work.

I have always been reluctant to part with my money, linking to a tight budget when I was student.  Now days, my budget isn’t at all tight, and long term readers will remember that in early 2013 I did set myself the target of spending $100 per week in ‘generosity’ – donating to church, gifts, and general fundraising etc.  I stopped tracking it, but in 2014, set up automated withdrawals to a savings account, so that I create lump sum to draw from at any time.  I use this money to ‘give’ to fundraisers, and my idea is that it will grow and one day sponsor a hospital wing (ok, maybe something a little smaller. The thought is regular contributions + compound interest = BIG lump sum).

This post is more or less for me to work through my current motivations and actions.

I prefer to give time over money, but realise that money is valuable too, so I’m ‘stockpiling’ it to use as needed.  I give my time as much as I can.  At the moment, it’s a regular 2+ hours at SES, a variable commitment at church across the rosters and Parish council meeting once a month and the co-op, which I have ignored for the past few months, but now have a project that suits my interest, so need to plough in the hours to get it done.  I feel a little overwhelmed at finding the hours for the co-op, as I also have personal things like the podiatrist, a hair cut and a dental specialist’s appointment all this week.  But it’s ok, I can do it.

I CAN get enough sleep;

I CAN cook healthy meals and maintain my calorie limit;

I CAN work out six times a week and continue to lose weight (weighed in at 72KG!  This was a milestone goal, so I’m rapt, as I also ran 14 mins, which is ‘around the park’ which was also a goal, see more on my weight loss plans here) and

I CAN contribute to my community above and beyond my work.

I’ve just got to remember it’s all possible. One day at a time.  One step at a time.  These things are important to me.  TV is not.  Relatively, reading and writing on blogs is not. Priorities!

Is it all possible?  Does something have to give?  Do you prefer to give money or time, or both?

Sometimes the coincidence of reading blog posts and discussing things with friends merge to create the perfect storm to contemplate the depths of life. Today, I hope to write a more thoughtful, philosophical post and given that’s not my normal modus operandi, it might come off confused, garbled or incoherent.  It will also be rather wordy!

I’ve established that it’s close to impossible to separate your current situation in life from your childhood.  How you grew up bears a significant shadow into your adulthood.  That’s not to say that one’s childhood will reflect their adulthood (financially poor youth won’t mean financially poor adulthood for example), but whatever the formative 18 years of one’s life exposes them to will strongly impact the rest of their life, and the relative feeling of comfort they feel within the echelons of society.

‘Feeling poor’ is something that can’t be denied.  However, it is strongly linked to the community you’re within.  I spent the first 10 years of my life in a large home, with my parents and siblings.  I attended a (free) public school, I enjoyed (free) public dental care, and my parents drove second hand cars.  As children, we seldom went out for dinner, and never got to eat when at the shopping centre or any other excursion – it was always a supermarket visit followed by a picnic in the park, at best.  I felt comfortable, and I didn’t feel my parents had any trouble with money.  In retrospect, I know that my early primary school years coincided with a downturn in the economy, and may have impacted on the ‘luxuries’ I experienced, such as eating ‘out’.  Compared to my public school classmates, I felt I was the same.  No better or worse, in some regards, they seemed to have a ‘better’ life as they enjoyed going to amusement parks, something we’d never done as a family.

When I was 10, a collection of circumstances coincided.  My father was offered an job overseas, which covered all tuition for his children.  I was offered an academic scholarship at a prestigious boarding school, that covered half my tuition fees.  The combination of these two factors presented my parents and myself with two options:

1. I could study ‘in country’ and live with my family, but my education would be in French (I am a native English speaker)
2. I could study in my home town of my childhood, and attend a boarding school

Regular readers (or anyone who started reading yesterday!) will know that I chose to go to boarding school. Honestly, I was presented with both options, but I was pretty clear that the opportunity to ‘sleep over’ every night, and be independent was pretty appealing. Financially, my parents were not impacted between the two decisions.  Emotionally, there was a huge learning curve for us all! That being said – I chose boarding school, and my mother ALWAYS wanted to board herself, and so encouraged my choice.  Over the seven years I lived at school, my mother repeatedly was asked ‘how she could do it’ by her colleagues and friends.  As a family, we never questioned boarding school.  Despite the emotional moments, I mostly LOVED my independence, and my parents wanted nothing but my happiness, but it’s hard to ignore that I was receiving a quality education with all the additional opportunities that a private school can offer young ladies.

Whilst my scholarship endured for my eight years at the private girls’ school, my father’s employer changed during those eight years.  Therefore, the cost of my education borne by my parents also fluctuated.  Furthermore, I have two siblings, and when they reached the age for high school, they too were enrolled in private schools.  My parents had always prepared all of us for a high school education in a religious private school.  I just started mine three years early due to the circumstances!

I cannot deny that I was privileged to attend a fancy private school for eight years AND live on campus for seven of those years.  I have to balance the idea that, by the grace of God or serendipity, I was offered a scholarship; and my father was offered a comprehensive remuneration package to relocate for three years.  I know the cost of educating my younger siblings did not come as easily.  Neither had their fees subsidised (by employers or scholarships/bursaries).  Perhaps inflation of school fees outstripped the pay rises my parents received, or it was a case of ‘two is double the cost of one’? (Thankfully, they avoided all three of us at private schools at once! Family planning (or not) seemed to have it’s blessings occasionally).

Whilst I feel like I might have excelled academically no matter my education, it’s hard to know for sure.  From a strong foundation in my secondary education, I received the marks to be granted a first year scholarship in engineering.  Engineering was not my first choice, but a scholarship was enough to entice me to try it out. For six years, I battled my studies – there is NO way I would say being a student was the best time of my life. (being a young, paid, professional is FAR better!).  I chose to support myself from my second year of studies, covering all of my costs – rent, food, tuition (which can be deferred in Australia).

Approaching graduation, I swallowed a bitter pill and moved home – after six years of loud and regular berating of friends who lived at home with their parents through their tertiary studies! When I looked at the figures, I saw there was no way I could ‘get ahead’, which in Australian is ‘buy a property’.  I chose to move home months before completing my studies, and stayed at home for the first three years I worked in my career.  Living at home is a luxury I didn’t have through my secondary schooling, nor some of my primary schooling.  I self imposed my tertiary studies to be self supported. However, when I joined a graduate program with six month rotations around the business (ie locations all over Sydney), I returned to the family home and (willingly) paid a nominal amount in board.  During this time, I aggressively saved, whilst taking annual international holidays and bought my scooter.  I wouldn’t even be as gauche as to say living at home was a sacrifice.  I love my parents, they live relatively close to the city, and their home fits all us kids (with less formal living spaces becoming bedrooms!).  After three years of paying below market rent, and having meals and chores done as part of a family, I had sufficient money to put a deposit on the loft.  My parents did not co-sign on my mortgage, which I knew they never would.  They did not gift me any money, nor did any other relative, beyond the usual $50 Christmas money or similar.

I’m grateful to God that my life has lead me to where I am now.  That I had the privilege of a good education (and the associated opportunities of sport, music, debating etc) in my childhood. I had the luck to find that my parents lived ‘nearby’ at the end of my tertiary studies (in actual fact, they did from my second year onwards!) My choice of subjects and my results from high school led to my studies in university, which lead me to a career as an engineer.  Now I earn a salary I couldn’t have imagined as a teenager, and I earn close to or on par with both my parents (one is a teacher, the other is a ‘banker’ but also qualified as a teacher).  I own a property, that I bought ‘all by myself’ – no mean feat in Sydney’s inflated property market.

Last night, I was embarrassed by the good fortune I list in the paragraph above.  I know that without my mother who had a private high school education at a school that offered boarding, I may not have had parents receptive to boarding school.  Without the chance of my father’s employer and package, I might not have had the chance to start my private education so young.  Without my parents choosing to settle in the city I was at university at (which is different to where I grew up/went to school), I might still be struggling to save for a housing deposit.  I look back, and see a ‘normal’ everyday kid starting life, and from the age 10, my life took an early trajectory beyond what was planned for me.

I still feel ‘normal’, but I realise I’m not.  I’m in the top x% – I don’t know if it’s 10% or 5%.  But I know I’m lucky, I’m privileged.  And all this, after spending eight years at a school where I felt ‘poor’, ‘uncool’ and not good enough.  Not good enough at sport.  Not smart enough at my high school classes – as if coming eighth in a number of my senior subjects in a cohort of 140 is a poor outcome.  I passed every subject at uni, first go – except for one subject I failed FOUR times!  That one subject, and the four attempts (over three years) made me think I was dumb, useless, and perhaps not cut out for engineering. It’s amazing that my perseverance, and a solid job offer as I approached graduation, helped me persuade university management to ‘waive’ the pre-requisite requirements, and let me attempt the following subjects – all of which I passed.  It led me to a job that I still have days where I think ‘how did I end up here, I am SO out of my depth?’ and moments when a colleague thinks out a situation and in my head I’m thinking ‘how does he know this??’.

I suppose it’s like a fat person trapped in a skinny body, or a young person in an older body.  I feel like a normal, working class child (now adult), who somehow infiltrated a prestigious school.  A less than stellar intelligence that scrapped through an engineering degree.  A recruit/graduate who ‘won’ a job at a very generous company (pay wise, but also benefits) despite there being clearly more knowledgeable applicants.  I’m the girl who started with humble beginnings – a family with used cars, never eating out, living a simple childhood, to this adult who was able to buy their own home, has a (traditional) degree and a very well renumerated job with great hours and benefits.

There but for the grace of God go I. 

I really don’t have a hard luck story, and sometimes I’m ashamed of that.  I didn’t crawl out of debt, or a horrible home life or childhood. I didn’t battle ‘incredible odds’.  I hope that forever, I can remain grounded; aware that there are so so many less fortunate than myself, and have the humility and generosity to share everything I can.  I can’t change what went before, but I can look forward and continue to be someone who makes everyone feel included, no matter what circumstances their life has presented them.

How do you feel your childhood has influenced your later life?

Let’s be honest here – I’ve been a bit of a stress head of late (which might have come out in last Wednesday’s post, among others).

I think there’s a few key reasons for my stress:

1. Money
2. Work
3. Moving house
4. To do lists!

Cause my blog is as much my journal as anything, I’m just going to workshop it out a little now.

1. Money

I’ve had to pay close to 4 figures to move house, on top of new rent – all whilst not getting ANY rental income.  It’s due at the end of the month, but will be less the expenses (advertising, landlord’s insurance etc), so it won’t be as much as it will be other months.  So, basically, I have rent + mortgage + bills for two houses on the same income that used to do mortgage + bills.  Naturally, an adjustment.

Then, on top of that, is working through how to budget as a household, not a single being who goes on dates.  Suggestions welcomed!!  Once I have a day off (which I usually get once every ten days), I shall head to the bank to set up a shared account for shared expenses – hopefully this Friday.

2. Work

I went from a role where I managed construction projects – so big things, that happened slowly, with lots of warning.  I blogged and read blogs and did many other things (managed a water polo club for example) to fill the inevitable gaps in my work flow.  For the last few weeks, I’ve been in a maintenance based role.  EVERY single day, two crews must have work from me to do.  It’s nice to have dedicated staff to do work (in the construction role, I waited to be ‘given’ them on a said date).  However, there’s a constant demand for me to output work for them! Then, from the other direction, I have a L-O-N-G list of tasks that all of management are diligently tracking (against my region and others) and hoping to see drop.  Let’s say there’s at least 6,000 tasks on said list for me to work on.  I hit the jackpot the other day, when 19 tasks = 1 day’s work, but it’s not always that good!  Anyhow, I’m constantly analysing spreadsheets and coordinating with the same five people over and over.  It’s a HUGE change from what was a much more stop/go mode of my former role.  Now it’s mainly go go go (and cheer when it’s the weekend!)

3. Moving House

I always think moving house will be a breeze, cause I’m organised.  But it’s not – there’s always so much to ‘settle’.  So many little tasks you want done.  And you just want to start feeling ‘at home’.  Thankfully, as a renter, I asked for a few pictures to be hung and doors and shelves to be planed (so they fit the spaces) – and I got a lovely handyman delivered.  I do get joy in doing the tasks, but just having them done is nice too!  I have also finally rebuilt my sofa – it now has two arms!  And I’ve rebuilt my lovely acro lamp.  I’m still getting accustomed to my wardrobe, and the shelves that are less wide then before (see my wardrobe before).  The second bedroom shelves are far nicer, but I know once I move stuff in there, the possibility of renting out the spare room will vanish… So I’m hesitating and cursing my small shelves daily.

4. To do lists

As my blog name implies, I like to list.  And this weekend, I listed! But then I had a mini meltdown on Saturday – started from frying my nerves driving (even though I drive every day!?).  Anyhow, the BF sat down with the list, and assigned priorities to what was on there – I had to achieve one high, one medium and one low each weekend day.  And anything extra could hold off (the ‘rest’ were predominantly low – no urgency to get done).  In the moment, I may not have been totally on board with the prioritisation.  However, as I write this on Sunday afternoon, with the list more or less completed (at least the important stuff), I’m pretty chuffed at his suggestion!  I got my run in, I rebuilt the sofa (not again… just once!), I baked and delivered brownies to my neighbours.  And (not on the list) I even finished a novel (Amity and Sorrow – I did enjoy it Lucinda!)  So, I end this post with – overall, the stress bunny has relaxed a little.  For now.