Coffee heat rising

Planning to Live on Irregular Pay

Not much time to write today: I’ve worked from dawn to well after dark the past three days on a big rush project. It’s an index of some heavy-duty scholarly work — a mind-numbing job! — and it came along just as a nasty little cold hit. But pay will more than meet The Copyeditor’s Desk‘s minimum monthly revenue goal, and that’s on top of several other projects that came in this month. And it doesn’t count the jewelry sales, which I consider a bit of a fluke.

If I finish this thing today, which I probably will, I’ll earn almost as much in four days as the community college pays for two weeks of work. Think of that… 🙄

When you’re working on a contract basis, it’s important to bear in mind that some months no work will come in. And some months, you’ll have more work than you can handle. That means you have a fairly large kitty from which you can disburse a regular “paycheck” to support your monthly budget.  What made it possible for me to quit my day job, as it were, is the amount that has accumulated in the S-corporation’s bank account, plus the remains of my “survival fund” of emergency savings that I had when I was laid off in 2009.

I’ve spent most of the latter — a fair amount of it went to shoring up the house’s defenses after the late, great garage invasion — but after replenishing with the last Heavenly Gardens paycheck, about $7,000 remains. A year’s worth of living expenses resides in the S-corp. Those two bank accounts taken together (the S-corp’s and Survival Savings) will serve as the kitty to bankroll my future of glorious planned unemployment.

Or rather, “self-employment.”

The plan is to draw down about 3 percent from retirement savings, in quarterly chunks, and at the same time disburse quarterly payments from the corporation. These funds will go into the Survival Savings account at the credit union, from which each month I’ll transfer enough to my checking account to cover regular budgeted expenses and the several self-escrows required to pay insurance, car registration, and property tax.

To avoid impoverishing the S-corporation, The Copyeditor’s Desk will have to earn a set amount per month to pay its bills and support me. But because I live so penuriously, that amount is surprisingly little. Just a couple of halfway decent assignments a month will do the trick.

This month more than a couple have rolled in the door. The amount billed in December is  more than twice the minimum revenue the corporation will need for me to pull this off.

That means next month I don’t have to earn anything. As a practical matter, the S-corp can float along for a month on what it’s earned this month, pay its bills and me, and still not eat into the fund that was in the bank when I quit the teaching job.

Living on irregular pay means finding a way to gather all sources of income into a single kitty from which you can disburse only enough to cover your month-to-month bills. At the outset, you do need to hold on to the day job until you can accumulate a fairly substantial base fund to start with — at least a year’s worth of living expenses, preferably two years’ worth, plus a short-term emergency fund for unexpected expenses. But once you have that, the trick is to regard the “kitty” as something that accumulates its funding on cycles that are longer than your budget cycle.

So, if you budget from month to month, as most of us do, the money from which you fund that budget should be accumulating funds on a quarterly or annual basis. This smooths out the demand for immediate income: if more than enough pay arrives in January, it will reduce the amount that absolutely has to come in February. Assuming your enterprise earns more in March or April, at any given time there should be enough in the larger account to fund monthly expenses.

In theory, you could have one big fund from which you draw for all day-to-day expenses and into which all dribs and drabs of income irregularly flow. Personally, I want to see a bottom line that tells me how much is left to spend in any given month, and I don’t think a large fund would easily allow me to do that. It’s a function of my weak math skills, no doubt. That’s why I have a checking account for expenses and a money market account for the kitty that collects the several forms of irregular pay that come my way. Doing that actually converts the irregular pay to something like “regular” pay: you pay yourself a monthly paycheck out of the collector account.

To make your escape from the rat race, then, you need…

One or two years’ worth of savings
One or more sources of self-employment or retirement income
An account in which to accumulate that income; we’ll call that the “kitty”
A checking account to hold disbursals for monthly bills

Irregular income → Kitty account → Monthly budget account

From month to month, the kitty account, which is substantially larger than the monthly budget account, will grow and shrink according to how much comes in at any given time. But it’s not on a monthly cycle: it’s actually on a quarterly or yearly cycle. As long as enough comes in over a quarter or a year to cover monthly disbursals, you’re cool.

Gotta get going: more things to do today than there are hours to do them!

Have I Found My Calling in Life?

Well, for heaven’s sake. I just sold the fourth piece of the…uhm…jewelry line I came up with all of two weeks ago.

Here’s my strategy:

Wear a  particularly handsome example of what I can do.
Wait until someone admires it.
Quietly and humbly, murmur “I make these.” 🙂
Stand by until the person says, “You do? Can you make one for me?”

Amazing.

One of the choir ladies fell into my little trap. But instead of asking, “Can you make one for me,” she had a better idea. She works for the state of Arizona and is required to wear an ID card on an ugly lanyard slung around her neck. “It’s so hard to find a lanyard that’s not hideous,” said she. “Do you suppose you could make one of these as a lanyard?”

Well, yeah. I suppose so. Just finished the same, except that I need to find a large, sturdy jump ring, which I expect to locate tomorrow when the stores open.

Meanwhile, this morning KJG and I are about to shoot out the door to go to the Tempe Arts Fair, a gigantic sell-a-thon that fills that burg’s downtown streets once a year with craftspersons and artists peddling their wares, when the phone rings. It’s La Maya, seeking a present for a birthday party she has to go to at 11:30 a.m. Will I sell her ANY lariat necklace I have in stock?

Well, sure. Unfortunately I’d consigned the only one I have left to Ecocentricity, whose proprietor has agreed to aid and abet me in my new criminal activity enterprise. That notwithstanding, she’s still interested (or at least was, at 9 this ayem) in buying one of my creations.

Think of it.

State of Arizona supervisory employee shows up with spectacular beaded lanyard (and I have to say, the darned thing is pretty!). Fellow employees ogle it. One of them says, “Where did you get THAT?” She says, “I know who makes these.”

Mwa ha ha!

Not counting the time entailed in tracking down the gear, making one of these things takes about three or four hours. Prorate the amount the things are selling for, and you get about $30/hour, net.

That is exactly what the Great Desert University was paying me at the height of my earning power.

Yesh.

I can earn what a Ph.D. and 30 years of professional experience can earn, by stringing beads.

Drop.

Your.

Jaw.

Speaking of dropping your jaw, KJG and I headed for the Tempe Arts Fair, where each of us perused the offerings of craftspersons who peddle the same wares we’re each making: she, pottery; me, jewelry.

We found a number of people selling things along the lines of what we each make. In her case, the number was limited: what KJG makes is not the run-of-the-mill casserole. In my case, the number was vast: everybody and her little sister is stringing beads, for obvious reasons (given the $30/hour payback). But here’s what we discovered: of all the crafts represented at this freaking enormous street fair, the pottery and the jewelry purveyors attracted the largest crowds.  At some booths, you had to elbow  your way up to the display cases — it was amazing.

Also amazing: the prices these folks were commanding. Handcrafted beaded necklaces? Eighty to a hundred and eighty dollah.

Holy mackerel!

These prices are for the things that were comparable to what my pieces are selling for (although no one is making anything exactly like mine). That’s right. For necklaces made of components that one can buy from wholesalers for an OK price or from retailers through the schnozzola, the going rate ranges from $80 to $180.

The boggle minds.

More than the price, the ease with which this stuff sells is mind-boggling.

Peddling a service — especially one that the clients imagine they can do themselves — is difficult, to say the least. But an object? For heaven’s sake, I haven’t even tried to sell these things! But people are buying them as fast as I can make them.

You realize: if I could sell four of these a month — as many as I could possibly turn out by myself — I would earn as much as I would need to earn by teaching to keep the wolf from the door.

I think I’ve missed my calling in life.

Remember back when I was hating on my GDU job and thinking how much I wished I could live in Yarnell on the proceeds of some handicraft?

Apparently that wasn’t such a stretch, after all…

Another Day, Another…what? Dollar?

Another hectic day. Woke up at 3:00 a.m., after having turned off the light at 11:00 p.m.: a grand total of four hours’ sleep. Got up, fiddled around for a couple of hours. Went back to bed, the alarm set for 6:00. Gave up on that before the binger went off.

Last night the president of our Thursday networking group e-mailed to remind us of the meeting and say who was next up to do a presentation. Seeing my name in the message, I thought it seemed a little early for a repeat performance; however, a couple people were going out of town, so we had juggled the calendar and I had volunteered to take an earlier than usual date. So it was that along about 6:00 p.m. I realized I had to be ready with a business presentation by 6:45 this morning, when I have to fly out the door.

Spent the evening putting together “Seven Business-Related Jobs That Are Worth Farming Out”—not a bad dog-&-pony show for such short notice. And it’s doing double duty as content for this quarter’s newsletter.

As it developed, one of the other members was slated for today; I was flagged for next week. Luckily, though, for both of us, he hadn’t seen the e-mail and so had nothing to offer. Serendipitously, then, I had something to fill the space and he had a week to come up with something new to entertain us. Win-win!

Thence to campus, where the little 101 McBoingers are turning in drafts for their first researched paper of the semester. Today they reported on their progress, which in some cases was “nil.” After my having explained three times that this 750 “draft” should NOT be draftig but should be “as close to FINAL as you can make it, because I will grade it the same way I grade a final paper so that you can see what to expect when the remaining 200-point papers come your way,” it was clear that some of them still didn’t have the message.

One kid didn’t know how long the paper was supposed to be. This is appears in writing, SIX TIMES, in the syllabus, over which they have all taken a quiz, one of whose questions was “how long are the papers for this class?” Others had not noticed that said paper is expected not to be a “rough” draft but something more like a “final” draft, despite this instruction also having been written out in said syllabus and despite my having explained it repeatedly.

They sleep with their eyes open.

You wonder why I feel teaching freshman composition is a waste of everyone’s time, theirs as well as mine?

Back to the CE Desk office for a round of tasks so mundane and done in such a haze that I can’t even remember what they were. Edited some copy, answered e-mail, thought about editing other copy.

Figured out a way to jam the bedroom Arcadia door open about 9 inches, just too narrow for an adult man to squeeze through (although his girlfriend could get through if she were flat-chested, and surely his kid could slip in). The weather is supposed to cool starting early next week. This will allow me to turn off the air-conditioning, at last, and cool the bedroom with fresh air.

To get in through the nine-inch opening, you’d have to open the relatively sturdy screen, which has a metal border wide enough to block the opening even after the burglar takes a pocket knife to the screen. A couple of squealers glued to the inside of that wide border should give anyone who tries to get in a little surprise. So I don’t think it’ll be excessively unsafe.

I hope.

Speaking of editing copy, it’s only about 8:30 p.m. There’s just about enough time to get through another chapter of one of my fave client’s mystery novels before I can no longer hold my eyes open. And so, to work…

Report from the Ramparts of Hell

{moan} I think I’m gunna die but that’s not possible because I’ve already died and gone to Hell, which is where I spent the entire accursed day.

Actually, the day started out OK, but it swiftly went downhill. It was a stressful day whose prospect has been causing frissons of NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO IT all week long. Is it possible that stress could influence the bellyache?

Awake at 3 a.m., unable to go back to sleep. Hungry & headachey; ate a piece of cheese & three figs; had coffee. Didn’t want to have an actual breakfast because I had to go to a breakfast meeting as dawn cracked and didn’t want to be rude by refraining from eating.

6:45 a.m.: raced to said meeting. Knew there’d be no chance for lunch and so ordered a blueberry pancake, bacon, & tea. Stomach was already upset when I got there; this didn’t help. Converted burpy to urpy.

The minute the meeting broke upflew across the city to the new gastroenterologist’s office; made it on time. Conferred with her. Liked her a lot. She agreed with Young Dr. Kildare that I probably don’t have cancer, probably have developed gastric reflux disease, that it’s unlikely to go away soon, and that for the rest of my life I will be taking a drug that saps calcium out of my already osteopenic bones and is known to cause clinical depression. She also agreed that it made reasonable sense to do a noninvasive test for H. pylori, given my history of living in a Third-World country, before moving forward with an endoscopy. In fact, she felt an endoscopy is unnecessary.

She wants to do a blood test. I said the Mayo doc had opined that a positive result for H. pylori proved only that one was once exposed to the pathogen, not that one was presently infected. She begged to differ: if you test positive, she said, it means the microorganism is still resident in your gut. If you have not been treated with several rounds of antibiotics combined with proton pump inhibitors, then you are still infected. Therefore, in the absence of previous treatment for Helicobacter, a positive result means you are infected. She said she would treat me for H. pylori if she could prove I have it. So…that was reassuring.

Out the door. Not enough time to go home between the doctor’s appointment and class.

Trudged up to campus, a 45-minute drive. Stood (on the sore goddamned foot!) in front of a computer terminal passing another 35 minutes until class started. Steered students to computer commons, for librarian’s presentation.

Had to deal with unruly student (again!). Kid is out of control. She is just completely batshit. DAMN it, twelve more goddamn weeks of this??????

Computers went down. Librarian was unable to do her presentation. She filled time talking about life in China, whence she came. Some students interested, some bored stiff. Afterward she wanted to set another date, so now I’ll have to drag them over there again next week. This screws up my carefully orchestrated schedule, but I think I can do it by killing a busywork assignment.

Tina, trying to cope with her usual overload, sends worried e-mail. I finally escape and get home.

 Stomach royally upset and actually hurting by the time I get back to the house. Significant heartburn. Annoying after ten days of feeling pretty good. Very, very annoying.

Gulp down some disgusting generic Gaviscon. Has no discernible effect.

A plagiarized paper surfaces. I give it a 0 and copy the chair; now will have to deal with THAT next week, god effing DAMN it.

Not hungry but decide to try some yogurt with honey, which sometimes is soothing. Feel marginally better, but not much.

 Exhausted. Field some e-mails, stare glassy-eyed at news sites for some indefinite period. After a while, recover enough to continue working on website, hugely updating it, writing new pages. It now looks pretty good.

It’s after 7 p.m. The dog is whining and nagging at me, I’m sort of hungry but afraid to fix much food because I’m afraid it’ll make me sicker. The dog hasn’t been fed and is running out of food. I have no more meat to cook for her and don’t feel even faintly like grinding up veggies for her, either. Have canned dog food but that stuff always gives her the runs. May have to feed it to her, though.

Tomorrow, another doctor’s appointment, lunch with friends, all of which will put me behind even further on the various to-do’s I’ve set up for myself.

Of this week’s to-do’s, I’ve done ten of the twenty projects & tasks I listed. Some of them didn’t get done because the website needed to be updated and improved before moving on to things that would entail posting links at various networking groups’ sites.

Done:

Joined Local First Arizona.
Fixed Tina’s CE Desk e-mail.
Reorganized and rewrote entire website for client.
Downloaded Google Contacts into Excel; used that to start a database and start preparing a hard-copy address/contacts book for CE Desk.
Revamped the CE Desk website.
Started building files for new contract workers.
Cleaned out space to hold files for the same.
Compared costs of Business Networking International (BNI), National Association of Women Business Owners (NAWBO),  & Trustegrity vs. probable marketing value; decided NAWBO is the best bet.
Got in touch with two previous employees, schmoozed.
Sent receipt to client.

NOT done:

Look into Scottsdale Airpark business publication, for ads & possible PR opportunities.
Come up with articles ideas for the same, for Phoenix Business Journal, for Scottsdale Chamber’s publication.
Call Chamber’s director to discuss publicity; try to volunteer as ambassador.
Set up a calendar on the iPad and try to get into the habit of using the damn thing (but realized that’s not going to happen…I’m unlikely to fiddle with that).
Join NAWBO.
Track down the third former employee who, I think, would be good to keep in touch with.
Finish the database.
Write this month’s newsletter.
Bill website client for 5 hours of work. And, come to think of it, three earlier hours of work.
Scan and e-deposit two other clients’ checks.

 Pending:

Volunteered for Habitat for Humanity; have to meet them at 5:30 a.m. Saturday.
Choir director thinks we’re going to show up at 8:00 on Sunday morning.

I don’t want to. I hate racing around at dawn and hate this stupid schedule with two 7:30 a.m. classes a week and a 7:30 meeting in Scottsdale and do not want to fly out the door at 7:30 Sunday morning and I. need. a. BREAK!

No wonder my stomach hurts.

Networking Groups

Does anybody belong to Business Networking International (BNI)? How effectively is it working for you, in terms of rainmaking?

Three people have recommended BNI to me. It seems a little pricey. On the other hand, one or two good jobs presumably would pay for the fees. But of course…you’ll need to generate more than one or two jobs to put bacon on your plate. It looks like a lot of work…and it also looks like it’s a profit-making enterprise for the gent who founded it. On the other other hand, do either of those things matter if it’s actually producing business for you?

I’ve joined a local Chamber of Commerce group. As a vehicle for meeting other business owners, it’s awesome. And since my business proposes a b2b model, it’s the perfect venue for networking. I’ve already met some very interesting people, including a woman with a start-up that sells a program—not an app—that causes a website to adapt automatically to whatever device a visitor is using. It creates a really neat page for a cellphone (for example), and does so by using code on your site, rather than running it through an app. Also have run into a graphic designer who specializes in print only, lawyers coming out the wazoo, and the usual array of mortgage brokers, insurance agents, and financial advisers. Plus the Chamber itself has some pretty neat offerings, including free air time on a radio show, space in its newsletter for articles, and plenty of ad space.

However, Wednesday at the Chamber meeting, one person told me he gets about 60 percent of his referrals from BNI and 30 percent from the Chamber. If that’s so, it could be worth the cost. Or maybe not, if he’s talking about a total of three referrals…

Yesterday one of the guys at the Scottsdale Business Association recommended the National Organization of Women Business Owners. That appears to be an extremely active group, at least in this part of the country.

It looks to me like one probably needs to pick one’s networking groups with care. Most of these outfits are not cheap: annual dues plus $15 or $20 for breakfasts or lunches add up to a hefty fee. One or two such organizations might pay for themselves, yes, with a single successful referral. But a half-dozen of them could mean the proceeds of half a dozen jobs would be consumed before you’d make a profit. Probably it’s best to focus on one or two, spending more time there rather than less time at a larger number of meetings.

The question is, which groups to pick?

Do you network? What types of networking, or which specific groups, seem to be the most effective?