Coffee heat rising

Am I Going Slower? Or Is There Just Too Much to Do?

Now, I know I’m not the first one to think this, because a lot of my friends say the same thing: It seems like the older you get, the harder it is to get to places on time, because it feels like you just can NOT get through all the stuff you have to do to get out the door. Objectively, it can’t be true that there’s just too much to do: after all, we raised kids without feeling that we couldn’t get through all the diddly little tasks on our plates, and nothing will slow you down in your effort to get out the door better than a kid! So, either we’re going slower as we age, or something else is interfering with our progress.

Hint: As I write this, I’m multitasking: trying to fix my breakfast so I can bolt it down before M’hijito gets here with his dog (not gonna make it: it’s already two minutes to eight) while writing a post while being pestered by my own dog while waiting for a video for the magazine-writing class to upload to YouTube.

***

And now that breakfast is done and Charley is here, I’m back in front of the computer where I find that MacMail is AGAIN demanding that I type, retype, and re-retype my password, a cycle that doesn’t stop until you crash out of the mail program. This, it develops, has been a known issue for quite a long time, though I didn’t experience it until upgrading to Lion and moving to the endlessly pointless iCloud. When it starts, thanks to flicking iCloud’s servers, where MacMail now resides, it affects all my computers. And now I can’t get my mail.

So, I’ll have waste some more time wrestling with that while watching the upload to YouTube and then, whenever that video goes online, posting it to the Eng. 235 site.

It’s now 8:27. I’ve been up since 6:00 a.m. and accomplished little more than to bolt down two pieces of toast, two pieces of bacon, and a handful of cut-up oranges. I haven’t been able to read the newspaper. I haven’t put the clean dishes away and loaded the dirty dishes littering the counter into the dishwasher. I haven’t made the bed.

I did at least wash my face and brush my teeth this morning…something I often don’t seem to be able to get at until I actually do have to go out the door.

The ordinary bits and pieces of what once was normal daily life get shunted aside while I try to cope with what looks like work on the computer (but, because it’s paid so little, isn’t real work, IMHO). So…what have I done in the two hours and 31 minutes since I rolled out of the sack?

• Checked on upload status of “Interviewing” video
• Retrieved  URL, opened video, checked it.
• Embedded video in “Lecturoids” section of the website
• Also embedded it in a new post, by way of bringing it to stoonts’ attention
• Uploaded “Query Letter” video to YouTube
• Answered several e-mails
• Discussed two projects with business partner, via e-mail
• Checked grades for two sections of 102 stoonts; observed great improvement over last fiasco
• Mentally blocked out a post for Adjunctorium
• Responded (again!!!) to confused Eng 235 stoont
• Fed and watered the dog
• Got the paper; watered a plant that got missed by the sprinkler system
• Fixed coffee; started bacon and toast
• Discovered I’d somehow uploaded “Interviewing” as “Query Letter” to YouTube
• Got into YouTube account; deleted video
• Re-uploaded the “Query Letter” video to YouTube
• Read another e-mail; framed answer mentally
• Retrieved bacon from microwave; retrieved carbonized toast from toaster
• Picked and sliced oranges
• Sat down to breakfast
• Almost finished when M’hijito showed up with dog; coped with dog bouncing activities
• Finished breakfast
• Responded to another e-mail from confused stoont
• Checked “Query Letter” video on YouTube
• Embedded video in Eng 235 post and in “Lecturoids” page; posted both
• Came back to this FaM post and continued writing it.

And now I’m about to go zap my cup of stone-cold coffee in the microwave. Gotta respond to that e-mail. Gotta sit down and study for real estate course. Gotta go see what that wacky pup is doing. Gotta check the pool chemicals. Gotta water the new plants. Gotta write a post for Adjunctorium. Gotta work on the client’s project. Gotta update client billing. Gotta work on edits for book-length piece of pseudo-lit-crit. Which reminds me…yes: pseudo can work on its own as an adjective. Did I forget to mark that in the middle of the night? Bet I did. Gotta search back pages of pseudo lit-crit; delete hyphen.

Gaaaaahhhhhhhh!

***

Well. The 50-ton digital elephant in the room is…what?

The computer!

• e-mail
•
blogs
•
iCloud
• YouTube videos
• more e-mail
• online courses
• still more e-mail
• {plink!} Facebook notice
• more e-mail
• Google calendar reminder: teleconference in 20 minutes

About 90% of this stuff wouldn’t have occupied time “back in the day,” because it didn’t exist. As for the constant onslaught of e-mail messages: People felt no great need to be “connected” and so refrained from blitzing everyone with their thought of the moment. More phone calls took place, probably, and those did take time; but nothing like as many phone calls were made as e-mails today. Business memos (up to 100 a day pour in from the community colleges) were distributed in hard copy, and because printing the things cost time and money, a lot fewer messages were emitted.

Look at the vast amount of my time that’s consumed with computer-related tasks. I’m squeezing my life in around them—barely finding time to wash up and get breakfast by the 8:00 a.m. deadline; barely finding time to gather what I need to do before I have to leave the house; dropping the newspaper before I’ve even read a page so as to get back to the chores waiting on the computer… Life has become nonstop gestalt: every single thing you do is interrupted constantly by demands from e-mail, online calendars, and work that didn’t even exist before life became digitized. In the Dark Ages, the work that did exist—say, publicizing your business—happened in discrete chunks. It wasn’t something you had to do unendingly over Facebook, Twitter, and WordPress.

Maybe it’s not old age. Maybe our lives really, objectively are out of control.

Is That Light a Will o’ the Wisp? Or a Train at the End of the Tunnel?

Real estate is definitely starting to wake up around here, thanks to the influx of Canadian and Chinese investors. Everyone thinks the market is improving and will continue to rise. In Phoenix, the inventory of houses for sale has dropped by 42.1% and the median price has risen by 34.5%, with both indicators trending positive at the end of March. Unemployment here appears to be dropping; in January it fell .3 percentage points to 8.7%—not great, but better than a continuing rise. Last night the instructor of my new real estate class remarked that the people who will be taking the licensing exam at the end of this spring or early next fall will be in an excellent position to start working.

Moi, I remain skeptical. My mother got a real estate license in southern California, back when I was in high school. She never made a penny at it. However…she didn’t work at it full time, and she knew little about marketing or business practices. Though I don’t know much, I sure know more about it than she did. And of course, she had my father and so didn’t have to earn a living; I’m pushed by an element of desperation.

Exactly how desperate that element is remains to be seen.

Last night I was noodling with the numbers and realized that if I were to take a 4% drawdown now, rather than continuing to put off drawing down retirement savings until I really can’t work anymore, I could live in reasonable comfort. Actually, there are several ways I could bring enough money into the house to restore something like a middle-class lifestyle. Each has its problems. But it could be done.

One is to draw down 4% from savings.

Because of the mortgage on the downtown house, I’d still have to teach. But not much. The amount I’d need to come up with annually, above and beyond the drawdown plus Social Security, would be $4,400. That’s 1.85 courses per year, a huge improvement on 3 +3 + 1. Since the online magazine writing course is now well established and drawing enough students to make every semester, it would mean I’d never have to go into a physical classroom again. And I’d never have to read another barfiferous fresman comp essay again.

Drawback: it wouldn’t improve my financial situation. I’d still have to pinch pennies and often would run unnervingly in the red.

A second strategy is to take a drawdown but continue to teach composition courses.

I compared my last GDU paycheck, in the fall of 2009, with what I’m making now. One regular month’s net pay came to $3,170. Today, my infinitely pared-back, rock-bottom expenses come to $3044 a month. So if I could somehow bring monthly  net income back to where it was in 2009, I could cover my living costs and pay my share of the mortgage. A drawdown of 4% added to Social Security would give me $2,674 a month, a $496 monthly shortfall, or $5,952 a year.

To make up the shortfall, I’d have to teach 3.1 sections a year—much better than three a semester plus one in the summer.

This scheme—start taking a 4% drawdown now (not later) and make up the difference by teaching (but teaching a lot less)—presents some major drawbacks.

1. I would have to teach. And I don’t want to. Nor will I be able to do so for the rest of my life, unless I drop dead soon.
2. I’d have to marshal every penny in savings. It would leave me nothing to buy a new car, and keeping my 12-year-old vehicle running is starting to cost more than I can afford.
3. It would do nothing to improve my penurious  lifestyle. I’m sick of pinching pennies.

If I taught 2 & 2, I’d net an average $3,314 a month. That would at least give a little wriggle room, but it doesn’t erase the problem that I need a newer vehicle.

Another possibility is to earn a rather small amount in another job—something in the real estate industry is what I have in mind—continue to teach while I can, and not take a drawdown.

As we noted the other day, my friend JS says he earns $200,000 a year selling real estate. That’s in the present supposedly peakèd market! Now, he’s been at it for 10 years, he has an MBA, and he’s a very fine marketer. However, a tiny fraction of that, just $30,000, would suffice to support me, if I kept on teaching—not unfeasible given that I’ve managed to reduce teaching to a minimal workload. Let’s assume I netted $15,000 after taxes and expenses:

That’s teaching three sections a semester (one of which is the online magazine writing course, a piece of cake), and nothing in the summer.

The result is more than I earned at the Great Desert University. It would be a bitch of a lot of work, at least until I could develop a business to the point where I could drop the teaching. But it would return my income to its former glory.

There’s a third alternative: take a 4% drawdown, net 15 grand in working in a real estate office, and don’t teach:

This would provide a monthly net of $3,924, significantly more than GDU was paying me. If I continued to keep an iron grip on spending, it would be enough to buy a car, which I’d have to do anyway if I were hauling prospects around to look at real estate.

And finally, a fourth possibility: continue to teach two sections a semester (only one of which would be in the classroom) while taking a drawdown and hustling a net 15 grand in the proposed other endeavor.

In this scenario, I would net $4,564 a month, more than I’ve ever earned in my entire life. It would be a lot of work. However, two sections a semester would be relatively easy, since only one would be a composition course (work for the online course is now minimal, since I have that down to a template).

The disadvantage to pulling down savings now is huge: it could mean I will outlive my savings. Women in my family have lived into their mid-90s…and they were freaking Christian Scientists! They never saw a doctor in their lives. Given decent medical care (assuming I can get it), I might live longer than that. With inflation forcing me to take larger cuts of savings, I certainly could deplete my savings before I die. And that is a real nasty prospect, given what we know of elder care in this country. One needs a large chunk of money at the end of life to avoid dying in hideous squalor, suffering, and  neglect.

The disadvantages of teaching while trying to build a new career are large, too. I figure I’ll have to hang onto two or three sections while I’m getting started, in order to guarantee enough income to pay my bills. But if the real estate plan starts to fly, then I would want to quit teaching. The question is, would teaching in that first year or two or three be such a distraction that I couldn’t make the real estate idea work?

It certainly could be. Even though I’m not putting many hours into it now, even a few hours a week could be quite a hindrance. I may need all my energy and attention to build a new business.

None of the four schemes is ideal. What would have been ideal would have been to have kept my GDU job until I was 70, by which time I would have accrued enough in savings to support me and my son would be in a position either to sell the downtown house, as planned, or at least take on most or all of the mortgage payment.

Knowing that “ideal” will never happen again, I need to figure out how to make a choice among four less than perfect strategies to keep a roof over my head, food on my table, and wheels under my feet.

Can’t Win for Losin’

Argha! FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-THREE DOLLARS for a brake job on all four wheels.

Oh damn oh damn oh damn! Just when I thought I just might squeak through the summer on what’s in savings! Not a freakin’ chance.

This is the first day of the March/April budget cycle, and that puts me in the red: right now, today. If I don’t have a single other extraordinary expense—not one vet bill, not one plumbing bill, not one pool repair bill, not one dental bill, not one whatEVER bill—groceries, gas, and other necessaries will push this month’s budget into the red. At the very best, I’ll have to pull about $175 out of my steadily deflating emergency savings fund. At worst? Who knows?

Gotta get a job! A real one, I mean. Not three or four fake ones.

A Peek through the Escape Hatch…and other minor details

So tonight after half a day of teaching blessed souls who want so badly to do well in freshman comp (in spite of not knowing how to frame a thesis statement or write an idiomatic sentence), it was off to the new real estate course. It looks good. I enjoyed it, enjoyed the instructor, and came away feeling pretty upbeat. Very upbeat.

The textbook is around $65, but I can get a 10% discount with my faculty card. Natchurly, I didn’t have it with me this evening. Tomorrow I have to take the car to the repair shop, there, we hope, to fix whatever is making the ominous noise—that’ll be a pricey fix, you can be sure. So I won’t be able to buy the book until Thursday, when I’m back on campus to teach again.

Meanwhile, I made a little discovery: for those of us who are given to startling back pain, the amount of quinine in a can of tonic water may be enough to quiet the muscle spasms that give rise to that pain.

For the past week or ten days, I’ve been enjoying an ongoing storm of back spasms. They started in the neck and shoulder and by yesterday had worked their way down to the lower back, which I hate even more than upper back pain. So insistent were these spasms that I could actually feel a muscle in my back twitching. Ugh.

So of course I had recourse to the Hypochondriac’s Treasure Chest: to wit, the Internet. Googled “back muscle twitching.” And lo! It develops that a whole flock of neurotics suffer the same phenomenon. Many of them highly praise quinine.

Alas, though, some 1 percent of 1 percent of humanity has a dangerous sensitivity to quinine. Make that a life-threatening sensitivity. In response, Big Brother has taken quinine pills, which deliver a respectable dose, right off the market.

Well. In response to something. One message board contained a squib from a practicing pharmacist, who said quinine was not going to hurt you. The real story is that the patent ran out on said pills, widely loved by sufferers of those nasty leg and foot cramps that strike in the wee hours. Big Pharma, unhappy with this development, lobbied to have the drug banned. It’s now back on the market in a new, wildly expensive patented form, presently approved only as a malaria cure. So if you want it, you have to find out what it’s called and then find a doctor who can be persuaded to prescribe it for an off-label use, which is exactly the same as the previously on-label use for which it was prescribed for years. Yes.

Numerous comment posters touted drinking 8 ounces of tonic water about three to five hours before retiring. Various sufferers responded, always with one of two answers: it either worked like Jesus touching Lazarus or it didn’t do a damn thing.

Now I know I’m not allergic to quinine, having ingested more than my share of tonic water over the years. So it was off to the Safeway, there to grab a six-pack of little cans full of the stuff. And a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, not wanting to waste the trip.

The result?

One 12-ounce can of the stuff (abetted by a slug or two of gin) is definitely, unmistakably Jesus touching Lazarus. By the time I crawled into the sack, the twitching had stopped, once and for all. Not a single tic. And though the pain was still there, the gawdawful knife stab had abated enough that I could actually find a comfortable position to sleep. Crapped out around 10 p.m. and slept all the way through until 6 in the morning. That’s some kind of a record.

This morning my back still ached a little, but it wasn’t excruciating. Getting out of bed did not elicit a moan or a cry of pain. I was able to lift Cassie off the bed without fear of dropping her. And the pain has stayed at bay. In fact, it’s actually improved slightly. Right now we’re coming on to 9:30 and it hardly hurts at all.

Tonic water. Don’t forget the Bombay Sapphire.

🙂

Image: A bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin that is half full. Ben Efros. Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License.

Recipe: Puffed or “Dutch” Pancake

So yesterday I got so carried away with relating the results of the conversation among La Maya, JS, and moi that I forgot to give you the recipe for the amazingly gorgeous pancake I whipped up.

This spectacular dish is spectacularly simple. For guests, you can create the illusion of even more magical simplicity by having everything set to go (coffee brewer prepared; bacon or sausages ready to cook, fruit cut up and sautéed or ready to sauté if necessary, table set and condiments in place) before they arrive.

Ingredients are minimalist: butter, eggs, milk, and flour. The amount of milk equals the amount of flour. Obviously, amounts of all depend on the number of folk you hope to feed.

Four people can be served comfortably with the 4- to 4 1/3-quart pan size proportions, assuming you provide something like bacon, sausages, or salmon to supplement. Use a frying pan or “everyday pan”: it should be broad and shallow and oven-proof, because at 425 degrees the pancake will puff up like a gigantic popover.

You’ll need a blender for this frolic.

Pan size

Butter

Eggs

Milk & flour

2 – 3 qt.

¼ cup

3

3/4 cup each

3 – 4 qt

1/3 cup

4

1 cup each

4 – 4½qt.

½ cup

5

1¼ cups each

4½ – 5 qt.

½ cup

6

1½ cups each

Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Time:  about 25 minutes.

Place butter in a shallow pan and set in oven to melt.  Meanwhile, zap the eggs in the blender at high speed for one minute.  With the blender running, gradually pour in milk and flour, a little at a time.  Blend about 30 seconds after all ingredients are added.

Remove the pan from the oven.  Pour in batter.  Return pan to oven and bake 20 to 25 minutes (depending on pan size), or until puffy and browned.  Serve immediately.  Dust with nutmeg, if desired.

When this “pancake” is done, it puffs up like a popover, but because it fills a whole frying pan, the effect is somewhat like a big, savory soufflé. Guests are amazed, children are tickled, and the result is delicious.

Suggested toppings:

My personal favorite is slices of fresh lemon with powdered sugar served in a shaker or bowl.  Sprinkle on sugar and then squeeze lemon juice over it.

Also wonderful are sliced strawberries, peaches or other fruits in season.

Sooo good: sautéed apples; offer with sour cream or Greek-style yogurt.

In theory, you could serve the pancake with canned pie filling, if your guests favor the fantastically sweet.

Or you can simply serve with honey, maple syrup, or fruit syrup.

It is, BTW, astonishingly frugal. But we don’t need to tell that to our friends.

😉