My Most Negative Positive Installment Ever

Making decisions on cost of living and other pressing life matters

I wrote a whole long introduction to today’s post. On about the 14th proofread, I concluded it was way too negative. So I scrapped it in favor of this more positive and quicker-to-the-point installment.

And why not? Let’s make it FREE for ALL subscribers.

We have added quite a few free subscribers in recent weeks. I’d love it if more than a few of you joined our paid community via a $5/month or $50/year subscription.

Or, better yet, take the best deal, pay at least $100 today and never pay again. Because $100+ founding memberships become lifetime subscriptions—no strings attached.

As outlined just yesterday, I’m in this for the long haul. I hope you will be as well.

Within Six Years, I Want To Write This Newsletter And Do (Almost) No Other Work

Anyhow—I dislike negativity.

However, when you write about the stuff I write about—and think about it a lot—it’s tough to not feel like you’re headed into that territory. Add in the polarized times we’re living through and the hostility out in the streets. And, damn, it’s difficult to not feel like you’re becoming one of them. Whoever they are!

The best way to be positive in the present environment is to absorb the negativity to the point right before it absorbs you. That’s the point of action. At the juncture where many people eventually succumb to learned helplessness and do nothing.

It’s easier to act when you do two things:

• Consider the nuance of a situation. Something we rarely do lately in our juvenile public discourse.

• Start with small, easy examples you can extrapolate out to bigger, more meaningful areas. It’s even difficult to do this, even on the seemingly insignificant aspects of life, because everybody has a fucking opinion they seem willing to die for. Even on issues that have literally zero direct impact on them.

Take this receipt for example—

I don’t really buy into the latte effect. The old-and-tired personal finance concept that if you stop spending $5 a day on coffee, you’ll be a millionaire by the time you’re 60. So, clearly, you’re an idiot for spending $5 a day on coffee.

Some of the biggest money gurus in the world live and die by this crap and they’ll call you an idiot for not heeding their most basic, but ultimately useless advice.

In the shell of a nut, if spending $5 a day on coffee brings you some sort of joy or even utility, go for it. You’ll make more of a difference looking at housing, your car and other bigger ticket items. By making actual big decisions that can profoundly impact your present and future.

That said, if you are ready, willing and able to save $5 a day, why not? There’s no right answer to any of this type of stuff.

I stopped at the coffee shop the other day and got ripped off for the first time in months by spending $5.50 on a cortado. A freaking cortado! They’re charging $6 now for a cappuccino and $6.50 for a latte at this one place. The day before I used my points to get a free cappuccino rather than agree to pay the $5.50 they’re asking.

I took a roughly three-month hiatus from buying coffee out and, after going back these last two days, I realized I’m more than fine going back on sabbatical. It ebbs and flows. And, while not a necessary way to save, it is an easy one.

That receipt. It’s amazing how few people look at in-store deals and download their grocery store app for additional savings.

Here again, it’s not going to make you a millionaire, but it is going to negate or even reverse the effects of inflation. At least food inflation.

I paid $0.49 for a $5.99 container of yogurt and $2.59 for a $4.99 package of cheese. That’s 71% savings for doing pretty much nothing. Paying a tiny bit of attention as I scroll—like I would on some other app anyway—through my neighborhood supermarket’s app.

I rarely pay full price for anything. Because I pay attention.

I see you Whole Foods, who actually has the best prices on almond milk. One week your 96-ounce container of almond milk costs $4.99. The next week it’s $5.29. It goes back and forth. But it’s the best deal in town at either price so I make the trip. And I grab 4 avocados for $4 while I’m there because nobody’s beating that price either. (You need the Whole Foods app for that avocado deal).

At Trader Joe’s, they’re charging $3.99 for a bag of raw almonds. So I stock up when I’m there. Not sure why they’re only $3.99. Almonds have been historically expensive. And I’m not going to find out why. I long for a time when the answer to every question you have wasn’t at your fingertips! But I will keep taking that deal for as long as they offer it.

I am kicking inflation’s ass at the grocery store.

And—oh yeah—I don’t like what it costs to operate a car. I fucking hate car culture. I’m done with it. The politics suck here. Our rent’s only going to go up. (It did). And we’ll never be able to afford to buy a house here. But—all that aside—I have never really liked the way we half-ass city life in America anyway.

So, I took some trips. Reaffirmed some things I thought I knew. Did some research. My wife went on a similar path, independent of me. Then, we continued on that path together. And, instead of complaining incessantly with no resolution, we’re moving to Spain.

None of this stuff—super small or objectively big—is worth complaining about without resolution. Download a freaking app. Scroll it for five minutes instead of Facebook. Move to the next block, the next town, another city or another country. Sell your car. Buy a bike. There’s almost always a way out if you’re willing to lift a finger or two, step out of your comfort zone and do things differently.

This wasn’t too negative, was it?