financial aid and rants and raves

Taking advantage of trends has proven difficult for me. Even when I know something would happen prior to the event, I've either been unable or unwilling to move. The financial collapse of 2007 is a good starting point. I knew in my heart that the Congress and Bush were too statist to allow the system to collapse fully. Moreover, since politicians and bankers are in bed together like they were living in a free-love commune, I knew there would be an insane, no-strings-attached bailout as well. Secure in that knowledge, I could have invested my money in any number of profitable ways. So why didn't I?


I could begin with any number of reasons: fear (um... OK, a little), lack of ways to invest (partially true, and this saved me a small fortune on Borders stock), lack of investing savvy (a weak excuse; the info was out there for the asking), laziness (sure, I was a slacker before slacking was trendy, just ask my teachers in grammar school), but more than anything, I was broke.

You'd think with my prior posts on debt and how I've been rapidly eliminating said obligations, I'd cover one of the main reasons I've successful in my efforts: no German chick. Back in 2007 to 2008, I was one of Anya's main sources of support, not to mention entertainment. Needless to say, this German beauty had expensive tastes. Before I continue, let me remind readers that this was not a sugar daddy arraignment. I may have been daddy, but there was no sugar. Absent a true accounting of how much I spent, I can only remark that my finances improved dramatically once we parted ways. We were both willing participants in our platonic enmeshment, so I don't write this to blame her for my past financial predicaments.

So one of the reasons I was living paycheck to paycheck was a stunning 5'7" blond with amazing blue eyes, sweet smile, infectious laughter, legs to die for, incredible ra..., personality, where was I? Oh yeah, why I was so broke. Pardon me while I compose myself; Anya was not the only reason I was unable to take advantage of the government actions I knew were coming. The other, and the main reason I'm writing this post, was debt.

Most of my short-term debt was generated to support my wasteful lifestyle, but I'd be lying if I said this was the only reason. As my credit was shit, I could only get credit cards that had really high interest rates, and this was also the case for my car loan and mortgage. I did refinance some of these other debts, and some of the other loans were intended for that purpose, but when the money came in, I didn't always use it for its original reason. Thankfully, and as mentioned in a prior post, my credit is much better, and come June of this year, will be spotless. Ironically, I don't need to borrow money.

The reason I took took the loans from my 401(A) was that they couldn't say no, had a low rate, and directly debited my checking account. I tried to get them to charge my debit card to earn airline miles, but they said no. Essentially, I was living like I'm making the salary I presently have, but 7 years before I actually had it. The worst (best?) part of the retirement loans was that are term-limited. Unlike credit cards, where you can pay the minimum in perpetuity, the payments were steep. At one point in the not too distant past, I was paying 626 per month on these notes, in addition to credit cards, my rent/mortgage, car, and student loans and it fucking sucked.

So being forced to repay all of this debt, combined with a fairly extravagant lifestyle, has cost me me something omnipresent, yet nearly impossible to measure: lost opportunity. 2007 was one example, but certainly not the only one. Now that things are changing, so what do I now? Well, that's the topic of my next post.

Well, I may have had the best of intentions, but I couldn't quite reach my goal. I have worked insane hours, and the paychecks will make HR freak, but I couldn't quite reach the brass ring of defect-riddled lunacy needed to meet my goal. What prevented me from attaining cardiac arrest? More than anything, it was guilt.

In October of 2008, I was required to attend anger management by the college. My therapist is in White Plains, so I would grab my mom either before my appointment or after, depending on the time. Her apartment is only 4 miles from the office, so it was an easy way to visit. I stayed in therapy even after the college said I no longer needed to attend, and over the past 3 plus years, I'd take my mom to dinner on a near weekly basis. Sometimes I'd be away, or she would work the polls (my time slot is Tuesday evening), or whatever. These were generally one-off items, and usually lasted a week.


There have been times when the gap was longer than a week, corresponding with registration. I'm not actually used to working Tuesday nights, but I've been scheduled to work late, and even if I hadn't I would have worked anyway. Again, I'm trying to earn as much money as possible, and the need is there. In anticipation of my plan, in December I moved my January appointments to 8pm every week, just so I could work late if I felt like it. I'm almost never this proactive, so I know the spirit was willing, even as the flesh turned out to be weak.


If it was just me ducking my mom, that would be bad enough, but at some point I decided to duck EVERYONE. Aside from a date (!) on Monday, and breakfast with Scott on Thursday, I wasn't talking to anyone, hitting Starbucks, going online, or even playing Elder Scrolls 5. I awoke, went to work, went home, and slept. The next day was the same thing. I even dropped off my laundry at a wash and fold in Peekskill to free time to work over the weekend. It helps that they do a better job than I do, and I wanted to be looking good for my date. Needless to say, this lack of social interaction, fresh air, or sunlight made for a very twisted financial aid counselor. What was worse is that I was starting to enjoy it. I was feeding off the stress, getting off on the rush, and spinning old tapes in my head. I was regressing to the point a trip to Montreal was in the planning, and since it was below zero for the high, one can safely say I wasn't going to tour the Old City. My monastic isolation at work was broken on last Thursday evening. My brain wasn't really working, and we had an emergency that needed immediate attention. I was loopy to the point I wasn't using complete sentences, just fragments lacking structure, grammar, or even cohesion. Nevertheless, I came in somewhat early, left to work at a branch campus 4 miles from my apartment, then drove back to the main campus to work until 10. I was actually angry at myself at meeting Scott for breakfast, as this was one occasion where I needed to be at the office, bagels be damned.

Friday came, and I was shot. Moreover, I felt really bad I haven't even spoken to my family for more than a minute at time. My mom called during my lunch hour, but I couldn't speak. It's not that I was busy, I just couldn't hold a conversation.My brain was not functioning at a high enough level. I actually had plans that evening; I had tickets to the Rocky Horrow Show in White Plains at 8pm, and Karl was going to join me. I planned on working until 7:30 and then meet him at the theater, but the thought of spending another extra minute at work actually sickened me. I wasn't sure what I should do, so I punted by calling my mom. If she was free, I'd pick her up, otherwise I'd be at my desk.

She was free, and happy to hear I'd be coming over. I also sent Karl a text message, and he met us at Cosi with a lady friend. We had a wonderful time, and the show was as great as expected. I yelled callback lines, danced the Time Warp, and chatted with my friend Ashley, who was in the cast. I even had the lead actor break the fourth wall, instructing me to "Shut the fuck up." This made the audience go berserk. As a cherry on top of the sundae I no longer eat, Scott called to let me know he was at the diner with a mutual friend I hadn't seen in weeks. I told them I was down-county, but they would wait anyway.



It was nice to talk to people again, although I knew my social skills had eroded. I was unusually braggadocio, boasting of my ill-fated trip to Prague, and how I injured my knee. If it was just Scott, it wouldn't have been awkward; he's heard all my exploits anyway. Our mutual friend is less familiar with my hedonism, so she was a little more... judgmental. She was happy with my Caesar salad, dressing on the side, however. Whatever her reaction, the die had been cast. Meeting with my mom and Karl, watching Rocky Horror, chatting with cast, and having a late night snack with my friends had the cumulative effect of breaking my carefully constructed isolation. This didn't mean I wouldn't be working like a maniac, but I wouldn't be willing or able to work 15 hours a day Monday through Friday, and an additional 16 hours on Saturday and Sunday. I did try to work the holiday weekend, and actually got quite a bit accomplished, but only for 6 hours total. I even made 2 more Rocky shows, and church, which was nice if inconsistent. MLK day was a lazy morning and an afternoon spent running long-ignored errands.

So where does this leave me? I'm not sure. Although I won't reach my first $7000 paycheck, I'm still working a crazy number of hours, and we're still 3 weeks away from the end. My best guess at this point is that I'll be able to eliminate 2 of the 3 retirement loans by March 2nd (or possibly 19th), and the last one should be gone by May, depending on my tax return. This is still incredibly good; far better than what I though was possible in early December.

Ah 2012, you harbinger of Mayan ill portent, how nice you've finally arrived. Flipping the cosmic odometer aside, things are looking up here in the good 'ol US of A, and people are starting to pop out of their holes, much like Punxsutawney Phil. Although it's anecdotal, the most interesting evidence I can find for all this is the complete lack of hotel rooms in any of the places I would have spent New Year's: Miami Beach, Key West, Las Vegas, Niagara Falls, or Montreal. Even the hostels were packed. I was crestfallen to admit the trip wasn't meant to be, but there's a silver lining to this dearth of lodging: I couldn't spend money.

While I've discussed my salary in this space, and that I expect to have my pay and benefits reduced at some point soon, I don't believe I've covered my fiscal situation. The reason? Shame, pure and simple.

Until very recently, my money management has been atrocious to say the least. I've accumulated monumental debts since 1994, and only recently have I made any serious attempt to eliminate them. I almost gave up in 2005, and the consequences of my irresponsibility are still reverberating to this day. The rocks on which I've crashed are the various loans I've borrowed since I started college. Some of these loans are short-term, while some have payments over a 30-year span (and not just my mortgage!), and all are directly debited from my checking account. Ouch. The shorter-term loans are from my dipping into my retirement account, and they must be paid within 5 years of borrowing. I've been edging closer to solvency since 2005, but I only really stopped the bleeding around 2 years ago. Since then, I've been fitfully trying to pare down what I owe and otherwise eliminate unneeded expenses.

Although I have been grasping for only the low-hanging fruit, I have been somewhat successful overall. Nonsensensical wastes of money, such as World of Warcraft and my storage unit, are history. I paid off my credit cards, although I use one on a daily basis for airline miles. I pay it off daily as well. I also sold my scooter, the ownership of which was a decent idea on paper, but horrible in the execution. I did recover some of my initial investment, but in layman's terms, took a bath on the whole exchange. I just paid off my car (Camry 2.5 - the first Camry was worth only a 0.5 rating), which was purchased last July. That was a fun check to mail, though the figure was painful to write. I also paid off 2 retirement loans, and arraigned to pay off an additional two. As good as all of the above may be, it really isn't enough.

I still owe a small sum on one retirement loan, major amounts on two other retirement loans, a huge amount on my student loans, and the mortgage on my apartment. While the debt figure is high, the monthly payments are actually manageable. Much like overpaying for a home bought in 2006, you may owe a princely sum, but low rates keep the bills affordable. This brings me to this registration period, and the horns of my dilemma.

Whether July/August/September or December/January/February, registration is always difficult, and any blog post from either point on the calendar would bear that out. Spring registration is lighter than the fall, and the overall timespan is shorter, but it's still a grind. The lines are long, the students are woefully under-informed, and we're open late 4 nights a week. All these extra hours are overtime, and if I so chose, I could work late every night of the week, and even the weekends. Weekend work has been required (i.e. needed, though not scheduled...) in the past, and I doubt this year will be any different. Insane? Maybe. Stressful? No doubt. Incredibly, wonderfully profitable? Oh Lord yes. My mouth is watering just thinking of all the yummy delicious overtime I'll scarf in the next 6 weeks. The work is there, so it's not like I'm just sitting on my ass doing nothing. I don't work for the MTA for fuck's sake.

I owe insane amounts of money, and have the opportunity to work insane extra hours. So how insane to I intend to be? Could I work 16 hours a day for the entire month, with only 8 hours a day on the weekends? Would HR investigate me? How much money would I earn? Would they kick me off campus if I wanted to work MLK weekend? Will I have a breakdown in my office and get carted away in restraints? These are rhetorical questions of course, and I've tried to answer them. I was up until 2am some nights, actually.

Staying up late to obsess about money is very unlike me, or at least the me I understood myself to be. Yes, it would be nice to pay back these loans (at least the retirement loans), and no longer watch my bank account reflect my poor financial choices every month. Still, working as much as I possibly could isn't healthy. With my financial, mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health held in the balance, I've tried to work out a compromise.

I will work late every night of the week, but how late is another matter. If I am scheduled to work at the main campus, I'll stay until 11pm unless I have a prior commitment that cannot be met at another time. If I must attend to something, then I will leave after 3 hours. If I was not scheduled to work late at all, then I will stick around and help out at the counter or do paperwork. Again, if I have nothing else to do that evening, then I'll stay really late. Weekends are going to be required, and there's nothing abnormal about that. However, I won't work the holiday weekend. The college will be closed, and I have Rocky Horror Show tickets for Friday evening and the midnight Saturday show. I'm a little annoyed with myself about tying up the long weekend, but going to the show prevents me from...... going away and spending tons of money! Pardon me while I thank God for saving me from myself yet again.

Some prayer and medition completed, I am ready to tackle the mountian of folders in front of me. With a keen grasp of the obvious, I am ready to state the next 37 days will suck. Still, there is the chance it will all be worth the extra effort.