Coffee heat rising

Battening down in the hurricane

It’s probably a bit late to batten down the hatches, since the perfect storm has already made landfall. On the other hand, I wasn’t really expecting to get laid off, and now that looks like a strong possibility. So, today I’m taking a series of steps to help weather bad times. Some of these, I think, apply to just about anyone in most situations. Here’s some plywood to nail over the windows:

1. Pay off or be in a position to pay off debt

My strategy: Prepare to pay off $21,000 Renovation Loan

This is a second mortgage, not an equity loan, but because it is a loan against my house it does put me at risk of foreclosure if I can’t make the payments, which I will not be able to do if and when I lose my job. I already have $11,000 in cash savings snowflaked for this purpose. Along these lines, I moved $5,500 out of short-term corporate bonds and $5,000 out of Vanguard’s Wellington fund, the two non-retirement funds that are losing the least.

2. Identify all potential cuts in budget and prepare to implement them.

My strategies:

• Pay off the Renovation Loan, to save $374/month (the regular payment plus payments toward principal made to eliminate the loan by the time I intended to retire).
• Cancel the newspaper, cell phone, DSL (good-bye Funny about Money!), long distance service, and monthly yard clean-up. Savings: $139/month.
• Cash out the whole life policy. Savings: $30/month. This also yields $23,000 less 28% tax = $16,560 in cash, about six months’ worth of living expenses.
• Quit putting $200/month into a savings account for casual expenditures. Cut all indulgences to zero.
• Cut back budget for all other living expenses that are not regularly recurring bills.

These maneuvers will cut my monthly recurring bills from $821 to $482 a month:
1010DepressionStrategy1
As a practical matter, I probably will not cancel the DSL, since I need it for my freelance editorial business. Also, Funny is now getting about 6,000 hits a month. It may be worth monetizing it. If I did that, I would have a good argument for deducting the cost of DSL from my income taxes. It’s not much, but every little bit helps.

I could, in theory, cancel my homeowner’s insurance, saving about $65 a month. However, that’s a risky move. We’ve already seen that the minute I jacked up the deductible I darned near set fire to the kitchen. Murphy’s Law suggests that if I cancel the $780/year hit for homeowner’s insurance, a gigantic storm will come through, blow off the roof and, in a single lightning strike, burn down whatever remains.

With the monthly self-escrowing for principal payments and the monthly $200 general savings gone, monthly savings set-asides drop from $704 to $300.
I budget $1,500 a month for nonrecurring living expenses. If I’m very careful, do not indulge myself in anything, have no vet bills, and have no repair bills for the house or car, this amount can be as much as $300 more than needed. So, I’m figuring about $1,200 is what I will need each month to live on, above and beyond the costs of running the house.

3. Figure how much will be needed to live in reduced circumstances.

My strategy: Add up projected reduced savings, monthly bills, and budgeted “other” living expenses.

1010DepressionStrategy3Okay. That’s better than the $3,000 a month I’m spending now. Over a thousand bucks a month better.

4. Try to figure out where the money will come from.
At the rate the market is going, I’m assuming there will be nothing left in my retirement savings. If I use the $23,000 that will come from cashing out my whole life insurance policy as an emergency fund to cover such things as veterinary, car, and house repair bills and to cover the $5,050 a year cost of COBRA, then I’m left with this:

My strategy: add up the next year’s sources of spendable income.
1010DepressionStrategy4

This assumes the tax on Social Security will only be around 20%, but it may be significantly higher, since I will have earned my regular salary for ten months of the 2008.

The RASL (amount GDU has to pay me for accrued sick leave) and vacation pay figures are net.

As you can see, even with the RASL pay and the one-time vacation time payment, I’ll come up short at least $6,600 in my first year of enforced retirement. It’s possible that I might be able to net that much with freelance income—a typical freelancer earns about $10,000 a year, working full-time.

If I don’t get a job, I am going to be in deep trouble. But I probably can get something working at a WalMart or even cleaning house. The rich will always be with us, and they’re always in the market for servants to do their menial work.

5. Consider whether there are any other options

My strategy: Figure what happens if I try to live on cash savings for the next couple of years.

If I don’t pay off the Renovation Loan but instead use the $21,000 cash savings and the $23,000 that will come from cashing out my whole life insurance policy, then we come up with a survival fund of $44,000. We have to add $170 a month back into the monthly cost of living. RASL is good for three years. The vacation pay is a one-time thing, affecting income in only one year. Without vacation pay, my shortfall will be around $10,000; without RASL and vacation pay, it will come to around $14,000.

1010DepressionStrategy5
As strategies go, living on principal is less than ideal. I suppose I could do it if I were pushed to the wall. But selling the house and living out of the back of the van would keep me going longer.

6. Count blessings.

My strategy: Quit focusing on the tsunami’s roar and pick flowers by the roadside.

• At least I have a roof over my head and the resources to pay it off
• No mortgager will be able to evict me from my home.
• It will take the county tax assessor two or three years to put me out after I begin to default on taxes.
• M’jihito has a job and is young enough to recover from whatever happens to this country, assuming anyone in the sub-Richistan classes can recover.
• I have a nice paid-off van with plenty of room to sleep in.
• I know how to cook from scratch.
• Beans are delicious and I know lots of ways to cook them.
• The veggies I planted have started to sprout.
• My health is good and so I at least can work, if I manage to overcome the prevailing cultural bias against older people.
• The Copyeditor’s Desk is getting steady work and could (maybe) crank $10,000 or $12,000 a year for each of its principals.
• They haven’t canned me yet.
• It’s fall and so I won’t have to run the HVAC system for another six or seven months.
• The weather is drop-down dead gorgeous.
• The dog is unfailingly cute.

P1010572

Update, December 2013: As it developed, my estimates of the taxes were overblown. My job lasted until December 31, 2009, and so salary from GDU did not trigger a tax on Social Security, which I started drawing in 2010. Only a portion of one’s Social Security is taxed, and that’s only if you earn more than a certain minimal figure. As it developed, forming an S-corporation ensured that would not happen and sheltered most of my freelance income and all Social Security income from taxes.

After the layoff finally came, more than a year after this post appeared, it proved impossible to find another job. Even had the job market not dried up in the Great Recession, my age worked against me — employers wouldn’t give an old lady a second look for positions that read like they were written with my skills and experience in mind. By that time, though, I had already paid off the loan, cut my living expenses significantly, and made arrangements with a community college to teach the maximum allowable number of courses on an adjunct basis. Although adjunct pay works out to something less than minimum wage, between that and Social Security I managed to stretch a $14,000 emergency fund to cover five years, and then some.

By staying put in the market, I eventually managed to recover most of the losses in retirement funds. Five years later, total savings (including the whole life policy, which I never did cash out) are about where they were before the crash of the Bush economy. My son and I spent several years underwater on the house he and I copurchased, while he worked a miserable job at a company that overtly abused and grossly underpaid its workers. Today his house is worth what we owe on it and mine is worth what I paid for it. He has a better job and hopes for a promotion. I will never work for The Man again, and am glad of it.

1010Obamanos

Blowin’ in the wind…

Well, it’s time to nail some suspenders onto the old oaken barrel, since that’s what we’ll be wearing now that our shirts are lost.

Called the redoubtable financial advisors this afternoon. It must be said that they sound pretty nonplussed over there. On the other hand, even though they allow that conditions are unprecedented, historic, and weird, they continue to insist that cashing out whatever pittance you have left in the market is a bad idea. One of the senior partners remarked that if the market continues to drop at today’s rate, it will only take about 14 days for it to arrive at zero.

“Is that a logical possibility?” he asked rhetorically.

“No,” he answered himself. If that happened all the stock in the land would be worthless. You could pick up an IBM certificate off the street, for free. This, he believes, does not compute. He and his colleagues are convinced the fall will stop sooner or later and the market will bounce back up.

We shall see.

The answer to another question is also blowing in on the wind: the University Academic Committee is having a little emergency meeting come Monday morning to discuss how to cope with a 20% budget cut. I’m told this is the first step toward the rumored layoffs.

We shall see about that, too. Personally, I no longer care what they decide. I’ve done all I can to protect myself should any such layoffs actually occur: applied for a half-dozen jobs that look like good fits, laid out a plan to pay off the Renovation Loan, and developed a strategy with the financial advisors to weather a period of unemployment.

Interestingly, though, I’ve spoken with a couple of auld acquaintances who, I discovered, happen to be on that committee. They tell me no announcement regarding layoffs of any specific job class was made, nor do they believe my particular set is likely to see blanket layoffs.

There’s not a thing I can do about whatever action the Great Desert University takes. And I am not going to get myself exercised over something I can do nothing about.
Thaes ofereode,thisses swa maeg.

Dumb tax

F’cryin’ out loud. In the “I can’t believe it’s possible to be that stupid” department, here’s a memo: when the binger goes off to tell you the bread dough has finished rising, get up and attend to it!

Yesterday afternoon I was dorking around on the Internet, my favorite time-waster, when I heard the breadmaker hollering “beeeep beeeeep beeeeeeeep,” signifying the dough was kneaded and risen, so I should retrieve the stuff, put it in a pan, and preheat the oven while the bread made its second rise. Did I get off my duff? Ohhh noooo. As I recall, what I did was mutter “please. shut. up.” Then forgot all about it.

Forgot it, that is, until I walked into the kitchen and found the stuff had continued to bubble up, overflowed the container, run down into the breadmaker’s innards, and then, its yeasties exhausted, collapsed back on itself.

That was a fine mess to clean up.

Determined not to lose five cups of flour plus the ancillary ingredients, I had the bright idea of adding a little more yeast, turning the stuff back into the freshly cleaned breadmaker, and letting it knead and rise again.

Sounds good, doesn’t it?

Lemme tellya: it doesn’t taste good! The result was a large blob of bread dough with a strangely rancid, bitter flavor.

At first I thought I could pass it off as sourdough. On second taste…well, no.

Into the garbage with it.

So, I had to mix and bake a whole new batch of bread dough. This occupied my attention until about 9:00 p.m., annoyingly enough. Dumb tax!

Isn’t it interesting how many of the stupid things that happen TO us are actually stupid things that happen BECAUSE of us? Consider how much of the present financial chaos falls into that category.

Now, I will say: I didn’t vote for our present national leadership and thought anyone who did was nuts; I did not get myself into debt over my head; I do not even run a balance on a credit card.BUT…yes, but: stupidly I left the bulk of my retirement money in the stock market, even as I could see the out-of-control train racing up the tracks. If I was smart enough to think of investing monthly savings (meant to pay off a small loan) in the money market, howcum I wasn’t smart enough to think of transferring at least some of my stock holdings out of Vanguard’s Wellington and Windsor II funds into the same Vanguard Premier Money Market fund?

Right now that moron Bush is on the air saying sure, he knows people are losing their retirement savings, “but I think in the long run they’re gunna be fine.” Long run? That illiterate, bird-brained idiot. When you’re 65, 75, 85 and retired or (as I’m about to be) laid off, there IS NO LONG RUN!

We appear to be a nation of morons who have followed a moron into predictable disaster. I will not disown my personal contribution to the national dumb tax fund, nor, I suppose, can any of us. Our dough has bubbled up, spilled over the bowl’s edge, collapsed back onto itself. The breadmaker alarm has been binging for a long time, while we have muttered “please. shut. up.”

Does any of this have meaning for individuals?

Hard to tell, isn’t it?

I just checked my Vanguard funds. Though they lost a little, it’s not enough to drive one out the high-rise window. Doesn’t mean things won’t be worse tomorrow, of course…still, I think it’s best not to study the day-to-day rises and falls of your investments but to keep your eye on the long view.

A pretty murky view just now, it must be admitted.

This morning I spent almost five hours on the application for the new job; still have to write the cover letter.

And I wrote a set of spreadsheets preparatory to meeting with my financial advisor about how to deal with the coming layoff. I wanted to lay out all the relevant factoids: current gross & net pay, projected Social Security entitlement, cost of Cobra ($471 a month! Up from $25), estimated unemployment payments (amazingly piddling–possibly not even worth the hassle of applying), RASL (the amount GDU has to pay for my unused sick pay, an astonishing $17,230), and the estimated amount of my total savings.

Today I learned that GDU has to pay me my hourly rate for 264 hours of unused vacation time: something over $7900. That will help!

Not only that, but I’m also owed 32 hours of use-it-or-lose-it time, for which I will not be paid. So I think I’ll take four days of vacation time starting this week…and not think about GDU even once during the entire period!

With these figures in hand, I calculated several possible scenarios, ranging from retiring today to getting some sort of job. If I can’t get work (and at my age it’s unlikely), things are going to be difficult, indeed.

Oh, well. That’s a bridge to cross later. Maybe not much later…but later.

IMHO, the current stürm und drang will take a while to come home to you and me: not until we see our jobs disappear, credit dry up, and the huge chains that have pushed out local businesses close down—shrinking supplies of food and manufactured goods. That may take some time. With a large helping of luck, it’ll never happen.

What a sad spectacle our country’s grasping, small-minded, doctrinaire partisan politics have spawned. For shame!

The Continuing Saga…

1.Unemployment for Christmas?
2.Does any of this have meaning for individuals?
3.Rumors start to fly
4.On the trail of the elusive job
5.Beating the layoff stress
6. How low can I go?

Unemployment for Christmas?

Rumor has it that a big announcement is coming down: along about mid-October, the PtB (Powers that Be) will announce that everyone in my job classification is to be laid off. That’s a lot of layoffs, even for a gigantic learning factory whose student body is larger than the entire populations of most of the state’s counties.

The jobs in question are so poorly paid that all Our Beloved Leader would have to do is cut the six-figure salaries of his trophy hires by 5% to make up the part of the payroll that goes to the likes of us.

The rulebook that governs the university’s operation specifies that employees in this category have to be given 90 days notice of nonrenewal or dismissal. Conveniently, if O.B.L. makes this announcement on October 15, our time will be up on the last day of the semester, December 15. This will keep the donkeys in harness until they finish their current round of plow-dragging.

I’ve already found a job to apply for: $15,000 a year less than I’m earning, but at least it’s an income, and the place is only about five or ten minutes from my house. Truth to tell, I could cheerfully forego 15 grand to be free of the hideous commute to lovely downtown Tempe. Last night the freeway was gridlocked; plodding home across the surface streets into the glare of the setting sun took well over an hour. Besides, GDU will owe me $17,500 in tax-free severance pay, to be doled out over three years. A third of that sum added to the proposed new net annual pay will add up to a larger net than I’m now taking home.

Plus the coveted new employer pays ALL your health insurance, AND it offers a “cafeteria plan” that gives you an extra $600 to put toward three pay-it-yourself plans…one of which is a flex plan. So in other words, if you want the flex plan, you don’t have to pay for it out of your regular salary. And, interestingly, instead of automatically taking 7% out of your salary (and matching it) for a 403(b), this outfit offers a simple IRA for which 3% is deducted…leaving you with dollars to put into your own Roth IRA.

So, weirdly, even though the gross pay is lower, the net may be about the same or even higher, with or without the extra income from GDU’s good-bye gift.

It remains to be seen whether this rumor is true. This evening at the Arizona Book Publishing Association shindig, we sat at the same table with a GDU colleague who was privileged to attend our Dean’s meeting with the chairs. She reported that Her Deanship announced, as she had promised to do, that our office is seeking a new client journal.

If our dean’s boss is about to can me, which will shut our office down, why is she telling the world we’ll take on new work? A very limited number of possibilities present themselves:

  • She hasn’t been told about the plan.
  • She is pretending not to have been told about the plan.
  • She doesn’t know what my job classification is.
  • They don’t plan to include me among the cannees.

None of those scenarios is out of the realm of possibility. In fact, they’re ranged in order from most likely to least likely.

WhatEVER.

Next week I’m meeting with my financial adviser to figure out how I can survive if I don’t get another job. This weekend I will fill out a job application, update the résumé, and write a cover letter, to be shipped off to the proposed new employer on Monday. And I will finish editing a freelance client’s copy, earning another $500 this month. The Copyeditor’s Desk is attracting a surprising number of clients—tonight I believe we may have picked up two or three more—and the truth is that we may manage to develop this business well enough so that neither of us will have to work for the university. Or for anyone else, besides ourselves.

The Continuing Saga…

1.Unemployment for Christmas?
2.Does any of this have meaning for individuals?
3.Rumors start to fly
4.On the trail of the elusive job
5.Beating the layoff stress
6. How low can I go?

The least important bill

Plonkee, spinning off a Simple Dollar post, contemplates her most and least important billsand asks, “If you order your bills from most important to least important, could you get rid of the one on the bottom of the list?”

Interesting exercise! After thinking about it, here’s what I’ve come up with. Some items tie for various places, because they’re of equal importance (or lack thereof). Some are automatically engorged from my paycheck, so I have no immediate choice in the matter.

From least to most important:

11.

newspapers, magazines
clothing
misc. junk

I can do without these, at least for a while. I have enough clothing to last for a year or more; none of us needs junk; and while I would miss my magazines and the newspaper, they’re strictly luxury items.
10.
yard man
Though I couldn’t begin to do all the yardwork around this house by myself, the world would not end if it were let go for several months. The yard is xeriscaped, so it won’t soon be waist-high in weeds. And besides, so many houses in my neighborhood are showing signs of blight, a neglected yard would not be noticed.
9.
whole life insurance policy
This policy is 30 years old. If I default on the payments now, the insurance part will go away, but I still can collect about $23,500 in cash value.
8.
long-term care insurance
This policy bets that I will need nursing care before I die. While that probably is so, if I quit paying the policy remains in force to a limited extent, and so it would still defray nursing-home costs to some extent. Given a choice between a long-term bet and groceries, I’ll take groceries.
7.

dental insurance
house repairs
homeowner’s insurance

My teeth are pretty good and require only routine care. At least temporarily, I’d be willing to do without the dental insurance. However, the cost is only about eight bucks a month, and so things would have to be very extreme for me to forego it.
House repairs are more urgent than yard care. Matters that have to do with safety or livability would need attention. But things like paint or a cracked window could be neglected without much harm.
Carrying homeowner’s insurance is tantamount to buying air. You make a bet that something bad will happen and that when it does you can’t afford to pay repairs out of pocket. While that may come to pass, people who don’t live in the path of natural disasters rarely experience catastrophic property loss. I probably could forego the home insurance for a time.
6.
gasoline
In a city where all amenities, including grocery stores, are miles apart, a car is an important tool. However, my age gets me a senior citizen pass on the buses to the tune of 50 cents a ride, and so in theory I could, if forced to it, commute to work, shopping, and doctors on our weak excuse for public transit. This would be extremely difficult and time-consuming, and I’d give up other things first.
5.
groceries
You’ve gotta eat. But you don’t gotta eat quite as high off the hog as I do. Food is my one consistent self-indulgence. With no risk to my health, I could cut my bill in half by eating cheaper food; foregoing wine, beer, and good coffee; and cooking frugally.
4.

car registration
property tax

Now we’re in the realm of costs that can’t be ignored. If I don’t pay my car registration, the state will rescind my registration and my car insurance will be canceled. It’s against the law in Arizona to drive without insurance or without registration. If I got in an accident before the police caught me, levied huge fines, and confiscated my car, I would be hugely liable.
Nonpayment of county property tax results in confiscation of the property and eviction from your home.
3.

electric
gas
water
phone

In our climate, you can’t get by during the summer without power. A person my age would die of heat exhaustion in 115-degree heat. Water also is crucial to survival here.

2.

second mortgage
The Renovation Loan is actually a 30-year fixed-rate second mortgage on my house. Although payments are small, if I default, my house could be confiscated. This needs to be paid.

1.

health insurance
In America, you can’t get health care without insurance. Well…you can, but a) it’s not easy; b) you won’t get it when you need it; and c) it won’t be adequate. You don’t want to gamble with this one.
So, could I get rid of my least important bill? No problem! I could probably dispense with my three least important bills (items 9 through 11) without much distress. About the time you arrive at level 7, things start to get ambiguous. The top five items are indispensable. What, then, would be my minimum level of expense if I stayed in my house and maintained my job?
If I dispense with my car and ride the bus everywhere, the monthly nonfood bills would be as follows:

$175/month: property tax
$225: electric
$ 24: natural gas
$120: water
$ 87: phone
$170: second mortgage
$ 26: health insurance
$ 30: bus rides, approx.
$857
Phoenix being a city whose designers noted everything that Los Angeles got wrong and then deliberately did that, living here with no car is not very practical. Keeping my nine-year-old car would make the rock-bottom monthly tab, before groceries, look like this:

$ 241/month: car insurance, property tax
$ 225: electric
$ 24: natural gas
$ 120: water
$ 87: phone
$ 170: second mortgage
$ 26: health insurance
$ 200:gasoline
$1093
But this assumes I would keep my job and that my employer maintains its extremely cheap EPO health plan. Obviously, I would not be in straits that required me to cut routine expenses unless I were unemployed. In that case, my health insurance would rise to about $500 a month, for a truncated monthly outlay of $1,593, almost twice my current routine monthly costs. Or a mere $1,357, without the car’s fuel bill.
Whoa! In other words, unemployment—the only circumstance that would require me to prioritize my expenses with an eye to lopping off the least crucial ones—could force me to cut the most important item on my list. Now there’s a thought!