Variation on a Theme: Life is Short

Prologue

“On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone
drops to zero.”
~ Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

As I’ve grown older, I’ve become increasingly more protective of my time. I contemplated why that might be, and arrived at the following conclusions:

  1. It’s Valuable – My time is worth more now than it ever has been in my adult life… education, experience, professional certifications… I’m not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but I do well enough that I don’t sweat the big stuff anymore…and get to pick and choose what I wanna spend my time on.
  2. It’s Finite – According to the actuary tables, I’m expected to be here another 11,000 days or so, most of which (60-73%) will be spent working towards retirement. So, if I’m lucky, I might have 3,650-5,475 [relatively] carefree days to enjoy what’s left (~14% of my overall lifespan). Of course…
  3. …I Don’t Know How Much More I Have Left – None of us do! I sure as shit didn’t expect Jim to pass away when he did… I sure hope I live a long and evil life, but I could just as easily fall off a step ladder and break my silly neck changing out a light fixture…

No More Mr. Doormat

In the past, I used to go out of my way to keep people happy – not because I’m a nice guy (although I try to be), or that I really care about what other people think of me, but to avoid the hassle of being on someone’s bad side. Honesty and fairness are important to me, and I try to be conscientious and treat people the way I’d like to be treated. For example, if a neighbor needed my help or expertise, I’d generally offer it if possible, and have many, many times. I don’t ask anything in return, nor do I expect it.

A couple of years back, I developed shingles, which manifested as painful blisters across my ribs. Movement was painful, and heat exacerbated it.  I couldn’t mow for a couple of weeks, and my lawn got out of control. Rather than offer to help, he sent me a passive-aggressive email to complain about it, citing that he found a [black] snake skin in his yard, and assumed my tall grass was the issue. By then, I’d given him hours of my professional time to help him with his website, answered his cybersecurity questions, and dealt with other inconveniences (e.g., interrupting my work to get his kids’ sports balls out of my yard). Initially, he was gracious and affable, but at other times, his requests started to feel like politely worded demands. Ashamed of my yard and embarrassed by his email, I spent $2,500 to clean it up, and $1,500/year ever since to maintain it.

Now, 8 months after paying off my home, I’m finally getting around to some much-needed renovations. Seeing the 14-yard roll-off dumpster in my driveway, my neighbor offered to “give me a couple of bucks to throw a couple of things away” in it. I don’t know why this bothered me so much – perhaps his sense of entitlement had gotten to me. Maybe I was just tired of his shit and had enough…

As Old Man Bob Heinlein, by way of Lazarus Long, once wrote:

Do not confuse ‘duty’ with what other people expect of you; they are utterly different.
Duty is a debt you owe to yourself to fulfill obligations you have assumed voluntarily. Paying that debt can entail anything from years of patient work to instant willingness to die. Difficult it may be, but the reward is self-respect.

But there is no reward at all for doing what other people expect of you, and to do so is not merely difficult, but impossible. It is easier to deal with a footpad than it is with the leech who wants, “just a few minutes of your time, please, this won’t take long.”

Time is your total capital, and the minutes of your life are painfully few. If you allow yourself to fall into the vice of agreeing to such requests, they quickly snowball to the point where these parasites will use up 100 percent of your time, and squawk for more!

So learn to say No—and to be rude about it when necessary. Otherwise, you will not have time to carry out your duty, or to do your own work, and certainly no time for love and happiness. The termites will nibble away your life and leave none of it for you.

This rule does not mean that you must not do a favor for a friend, or even a stranger. But let the choice be yours. Don’t do it because it is “expected” of you.

~ Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love
He’s right, you know! I’ve finally reached a point in my life where I need to take care of myself, my home, and my family. I don’t have the bandwidth for anything else, and as Jim reminded me just 5 months ago, life is short!

Let the Choice Be Mine, and on My Terms…

I’d replied to his initial email to let him know I received the request, but wasn’t sure how much room would be left over after I was done (true, but misleading), and that I would let him know by the middle of the week.

I feel sure he had no intention of giving me any money to throw his garbage in my dumpster rental, and I might have let him do it had he been more forthright about what exactly he wanted to get rid of… In fact, he didn’t specify until I’d called him and asked, and even sounded a little indignant when I didn’t immediately agree to let him do this, claiming that he could pay $12 and have someone haul it off for him!

I’ve had lots of junk hauled away over the last few years, and NOT ONCE did it cost me less than $200, so I don’t know who the fuck he thought he was kidding… I don’t want or need his money, but I resent the entitlement and disrespect.

I sat on it all week. Friday was the 4th of July, and in my town, fireworks are permitted the day before, the day of, and the day after from 10 am until hours after I’d normally turn in for the night. The dogs fucken hate it, the loud noises and lights scare them shitless (literally – their little assholes pucker up tighter than a snare drum, and they can’t squeeze a nugget until it’s all over)…So this time, rather than going out to the in-laws with the wife, I stayed at home and looked after our little fuzzy retards. All that to say I was already in a bad mood, and feeling petulant…
So bright and early, Sunday morning, after cleaning up bits and pieces of burnt paper and streamers that blew into my front yard from my asshole neighbors who couldn’t be bothered to clean up after themselves, I wrote the most polite email I could muster (names redacted to protect the guilty):

Hi [Insert Entitled Neighbor’s First Name Here],

Sorry for the late reply! It’s been a busy week and a stressful weekend, especially for the doggos… They’re terrified of fireworks, and being at the bottom of the hill, I spent the morning cleaning up fireworks debris that blew in from the rest of the neighborhood :|…

Now that things have settled down, I’ve finished my part of the cleanup, and there’s about a third of the bin left. I’d like to take you up on your offer to contribute toward using the remaining space for your own use.

The rental was $[not cheap] for the week. I can offer you the remaining portion for $100. If you’re interested, I would need your confirmation that nothing you dispose of will be on their prohibited items list [link redacted]. As the rental is in my name, I’m responsible for the contents.

Let me know either way!

Thanks again,

To my relief, he didn’t reply. By the time I’d thought to check the house for any last-minute things I wanted to dispose of, the bin company had already come and gone…

Whether the request put him off or he simply didn’t see the email in time doesn’t matter… It’s over. Of course, I’m such an asshole, I was actually upset (briefly) that I didn’t get a chance to check the bin to be sure nothing else was placed in it… I doubt it, but I’ll never know, and I’m fine with that.

Epilogue

Over the years, I’ve replaced all of the major appliances (AC Unit, Water Heater, Fridge, Stove, Dishwasher, Clothes Washer, and Dryer), so functionally, it’s in good shape. Cosmetically, it’s a disaster area…

Now that the house is paid off, I’ve been saving up for much-needed renovations.
I started working with a buddy of mine, but progress was slow because he has a full-time job as a maintenance guy for an apartment complex and is on-call every other weekend. Progress was slow, and while I was prepared to work around that, he had a sciatica flare-up, which put the kibosh on our efforts.

The projects languished for about a month, and after reaching out to a couple of general contractor referrals, I finally got one to come out and make a bid. It was a little more than what I wanted to spend, but within my means, and so I went for it!

We’re about 4 weeks into a 2-week engagement… the peeling drywall tape has been repaired, the walls and cabinets have been painted, and the new flooring is put in, the quarter round (most of it) is laid. All that’s left is one more day to paint the quarter round and do some touch-ups.

Once that’s all done, I’ve got a maid service coming to deep clean, and then it’s on to the bathroom remodels…Life’s too short to live in a nasty house, and by the time we’re done, it’ll be in better shape than the day we took ownership of it. I can’t wait!

If the passage of time has taught me anything, it’s that things that seemed to matter so much in the moment soon become a forgotten memory. What was it that Tyler Durden once said about this?

“Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken!”

No, that’s not it…

“No fear! No distractions! The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide.”

Yeah, that’s more like it!