You Are an Obsession, You’re My Obsession

Having prattled on blogged about who knows what personal finance for going on five years, you might assume I’m not just a little interested in the subject. And, for the 1s of you who read my Money, Man! series of posts, about money in general. Some might even call me obsessed about these subjects. 

The truth is a bit more complicated. 

Very interesting

I’ve been interested in money at least since I opened my first bank account when I was probably 14 or 15 years old. I not only had a savings account ledger book (for my Dear Readers too young to know that term, this was the olden days, so look it up), I meticulously kept it up to date and never . . . ever . . . came close to a $0 balance. Much less an overdraft.

In time, I got my first part-time jobs, which came with income far exceeding the peanuts money my folks would occasionally give me for chores completed. That said, with my pay being around the minimum wage in the mid-$3 range, I wasn’t exactly rapidly amassing an enviable fortune. 

Later came full-time gigs and larger dollar amounts, But so too somewhat crushing student loans to be paid back. And higher expenses that came with living on my own, and at least some lifestyle inflation. With such slim margins, my mental focus on money grew in equal measure.

Notwithstanding this history, on the eve of discovering FIRE, I still wouldn’t describe myself as being obsessed with money. Not even in the days where my and The Missus’ finances were most precarious (because our incomes were not super high, but our obligations (such as a mortgage, child care, and student loan repayments, among other things) were). Just highly focused on it. 

I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind

In what I consider somewhat of an irony, my discovery of FIRE transformed my theretofore merely strong focus into more of an obsession. Ironic because whereas before, our finances were at least a bit precarious, and we had only a kinda-sorta financial plan, but after, things clicked into far better alignment. In an even greater irony, as I closed in on my FIRE date, the obsession grew. A greater irony because by then, we were clicking on all cylinders. And maybe in the greatest, most perplexing irony, it grew yet higher once I actually FIREd. This irony resulting from the fact that we’d realized our well-planned goals.

First, my discovery of FIRE. When I discovered that FI and RE were things, that they could be realized by way of simple math equations and lifestyle tweaks, and that we were at a point financially where they were within relatively quick and easy reach, I just about leapt about like a sugar-fueled five-year-old kid. Working my numbers became, well, an obsession. 

As time marched on, and as countless in the FIRE community have found for themselves, positive things started happening faster than anticipated. I also had reasons to revise our FIRE numbers in favorable ways for various reasons. 

This in and of itself was something borne of the existing obsession. But it also was because by then, I was consuming heroic amounts of FIRE-focused content. Whereas once I’d spend much time reading materials consuming content covering my other interests, I now dedicated less time to that and more to FIRE. It also sprang from the fact that as I stated and neared my FIRE date, I became more obsessed with making sure that I could comfortably pull the ripcord on the set date. 

And then came FIRE.

I’d have thought that my obsession would at least abate. Maybe even disappear as I started living an entirely different type of life.

Were that it were so. 

What I’ve found is that the obsession has since only grown. I consume at least as much FIRE content as before and am just as steeped in that world. Also, because my FIREd days started on such a negative note, I’ve been consumed with our numbers and sequence of returns risk. Adding to this has been my discovery that for me, not receiving a regular paycheck in a thank-you-very-much high amount has taken a bigger toll on my contentment than I’d figured. I’m inching ever closer to creating an artificial paycheck. But I haven’t yet, and so the head games I’ve created and played with myself have continued. 

Now, lemme be clear. My focus on, and then obsession with, money has had undeniable and unbelievable positive impacts on our personal finances and on me as a person. Absent said focus and ensuing obsession, some of those positive things would’ve happened more slowly. Or maybe not at all. 

But make no mistake, my obsession ain’t healthy. 

It’s all too much 

I wrote a while ago about how I now check the goings on in the markets many times per day, where I used to never do so. This does me precisely no good. I personally have no impact on markets’ ups and downs. The markets will do what they’ll do. All I can do is control what’s in my control. Like our spending. Where we get our income. How much, if anything, we continue to invest. And so on. All this looking at the markets is useless and meaningless. And on down market days, negatively affects my mood. 

I also find myself thinking more, and often, about money when I inevitably wake up in the middle of the night (a longtime chronic issue, not stemming totally from financials-related concerns). I’ve started to think that my chronic sleep issues are being kept alive, and maybe exacerbated by, my obsession. 

I occasionally have a positive epiphany during these middle-of-the-night waking hours. That’s one of the reasons I’ve never completely hated these hours. But frankly, there’s usually no epiphany. Just tossing and turning with numbers dancing about in my flea-addled brain. This, too, does me no good. In fact, it probably does me harm by decreasing my necessary sleep hours. And raising the level of stress-related chemicals my body pumps out. 

And all that consumption of FIRE-related content? Occasionally, I learn to something new to me, or that sparks an idea with an impressive return on investment. That’s exceedingly rare these days tho as I know so much about what I need to know. 

On the one hand I try to convince myself that but for the content consumption, those new positive things don’t happen. On the other hand, however, I often remind myself of the Pareto principle, how I’ve got my 80% down, and how I could spend my time more productively on other things. Like health and wellness activities. Or learning something new in an area I know little about. Especially one that might provide both personal fulfillment and, even better, if incidentally, income.

So, I’m beating myself up about all this. And that, too, does me no good. 

Whatever to do?!

It’s simple, Simon

Well, I think the answer’s simple. First, I need to stop looking at markets’ daily performance. Ideally cold turkey. But I know myself well enough to know that’s unlikely. So, probably best achieved by looking fewer times per day. Then not looking every day. Then looking even more rarely. Then . . . dare to dream! . . . maybe almost never. This’ll be a tall order. But ya’ gotta set goals.

Second, I’ve gotta cut down on my FIRE content consumption, no matter how much I like the stuff. My thinking is that I need to find a new area of interest and read/listen to material in that field. I think that as long as I’m replacing content with content (and I loves me my reading and listening and learning), that’ll help. I mean, I’ll at least be diverted from falling back on my old ways.

And, last, and most importantly, I’ve gotta trust that the math works out. I mean, it’s not like I proceeded willy-nilly on my strategy and tactics to get to FIRE, or in the time that’s followed. This is easier said than done I’ve found. But I know that my plan is solid. If I can get to this place of Zen and the Art of Internalizing That the Math Checks out, I think I’ll have slain this dragon. 

Now, on the one hand, I’ve mentioned several times in this post that making progress in each area I intend to focus on is gonna be hard. Maybe real hard. But here’s the thing—and it’s something I know. It’s just cutting out some stuff. If I had to actually take real action to accomplish my goal, that might be tough. This, however, ain’t that. It’s pretty darned simple when I consider it objectively.  

And in the end . . . 

So, wish me luck, Dear Reader! I’m a gonna start singing a new tune and ditch the old one.