There’s one promise I can make you today, right now.
I will never, ever curl my eyelashes.
Especially in my Pontiac Grand-Am, as I roll down highway 4-85.
Especially on the morning commute. (This happened, with a fellow motorist. Sixty-five-plus MPH, with an eyelash curler clipped one eye, then the other. I can judge and give dirty looks, even though when I eat animal cookies while I drive, I look down to see what animal it is, out of respect – for the animal.)
As dad of three and coach of two and writer of one blog, I’m all for shaving time and shaving money, out of the everyday. To make ends meet means to twist and turn and stretch – but not to curl. I will not curl.
There are a lot of ways I shave time and money in the everyday routine. Some of them aren’t gross.
3 Ways to Shave Time
1. Computer startup time
In defiance of Macklemore’s call to find a new way to get up, I do get on the Internet first thing. I fire up my laptop, and in the time it takes to power on, I can take my pills and start the griddle for breakfast for Elise and me. I can be on WordPress in 7.7 seconds flat.
Even better if I could: Get in some morning hot yoga instead of hit the WordPress.
Not so good if I: Just Google “yoga pants pictures” and skip breakfast all together.
2. NPR time is my news time
On bad mornings, I’ll hear the music to start the NPR news report three times on my commute. That car-bound 90 minutes is no time for sports-talk drivel. I catch up on world headlines with Kelly McEvers and Marketplace news with Sally Herships. No need to bone up on CNN.com at work.
Even better if I could: Parlay some of this NPR knowledge into stellar stock trading, or into healthier living. It would be stellar if I knew more than six world leaders by name, even.
Not so good if I: Am late to work every day because I had an “NPR moment” in the car.
3. Twitter at the urinal
Not just the urinal – sometimes, it’s while I wait for Elise to find her Toms or shin guards before we leave in the morning. I can steal a peek at the Twitter feed, and give out some props. I’m not good enough to tweet from the men’s room, but I can retweet like a champ without a double dribble.
Even better if I could: Update my fantasy football while I wash my hands, using only the tip of my nose.
Not so good if I: Fumble the smartphone while changing hands.
3 Ways to Shave Money
1. Dollar Store on steroids
What’s better than shampoo and body wash from the dollar store? Shampoo and body wash from the dollar store – in a single bottle. Once, the 2-in-1 was actually shampoo and conditioner, not body wash. I shaved money by using it as shampoo anyway.
Even better if I could: That buck I spend on dollar-store razors that cut my whiskers will all the kindness and precision of a rusty buzz saw? Maybe it’d be better to invest it in a Dollar Shave Club membership to get good razors sent to my door every month.
Not so good if I: Buy any of these items from the dollar store to save money: Ground beef, pacemaker batteries or pregnancy tests.
2. Laundry baskets and pantry space
The savings is marginal; the idea is significant. I usually have a change or three of clothes and a store-brand box of animal crackers on board. Not to mention 37 other items you don’t know you need until you need them. My car is the biggest multi-tasking monster since … dollar-store shampoo/body wash.
Even better if I could: Keep a bag of clean clothes in the backseat, rather than “relatively clean.” It wouldn’t hurt to skip the bag of dollar-store pork rinds.
Not so good if I: Keep dollar-store ground beef in the passenger seat.
3. “Discover and uncover” golf discs, rather than pay retail prices
It’s perhaps my most deplorable feature: A golf disc found is a golf disc kept. Mother Nature might want the discs with phone numbers in them returned to their rightful owners. She’ll force me to lose it in the thicket if she does. Then, another kind soul can take the credit. Until then, its finders keepers.
Even better if I could: Uncover a pair of eyeglasses with my complicated and expensive prescription, in a protective case. Bonus points if the frames are fashionable, but not too fashionable, for a 42-year old.
Not so good if I: Also find an eyelash curler. And begin to think … maybe, with fuller, sexier eyelashes, no one will care about the pork rinds crumbs on my shirt.