CAN I GET A STRAITJACKET WITH THAT COMMITMENT?

I’ve been and gone and done it, then – leased myself some storage space with Big Yellow so I can acquire a whole lot of stock to offload on Ebay, Ebid.net, Amazon and elsewhere. It does feel like quite a commitment, and financially it certainly is exactly that. Not that it was all that expensive – my quote was for an extra free month on top of approximately £50 a month including insurance. Plus a security deposit of one month too. Still, speaking as a LUB – that’s Lazy Unemployed Bum to the uninitiated – it feels right now a bit of a millstone round my neck.

Certainly it means I have to act on it: with an invoice for £50 coming in every month I will need to be out there sourcing stock, photographing it, listing it. And hopefully with that will come all the associated work of extra sales: wrapping, updating listings, posting, keeping accounts.

Of course having this leap into the dark coincide with the credit crunch doesn’t inspire masses of confidence, exactly. But then, there’s always some reason not to take a risk, not to put yourself out there: if it wasn’t the crunch then I’m sure I could come up with a dozen other reasons why now isn’t a good time.

On the day I actually went to take possession and load up the tiny unit with a few boxes, I felt such a massive, sweaty resistance. It was as if every fibre of my being was just trying to hold me back, refusing to budge, shouting, ‘NO!’ It didn’t feel like intuition: it felt like fear. Fear of a huge, irrevocable step – a step that might lead to great things, and maybe that was half the trouble. If I’m not an underachiever, a failure, a LUB – then who am I? How will I recognise myself when I look in the mirror? I’ve read a lot of Barbara Sher and I thought I recognised the feeling from some of her books. It wasn’t trying to protect me. It was trying to sabotage me with the desire for safety and familiarity – even though the familiar can be very unsafe indeed.

But I thought of Goethe – or whoever is in fact responsible for that famous quote, the ‘Boldness has genius, and power, and magic in it,’ one – and pushed through the resistance. Just steadily refused to acknowledge that inner voice, and instead chatted and joked with the guy on reception, filled in reams of paperwork, and… committed myself. Maybe they should have given me a complimentary straitjacket.

What I should have done to get a 2:1

Picture used under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License : please consult before re-use.
Picture credit: Twice25

I've been thinking about this because I wrote an article for EzineArticles on Revision Tips for Slacker Students and that made me consider about how it applied to me. I got a 2:2 a few years back myself, partly due to ill-health but also as a result of a lack of 'smarts'. I was smart, I just didn't have 'smarts', if you see what I mean. I was insufficiently worldly-wise (or college-wise) to pick up on the tricks and tips that leverage your classification up those crucial few points.

So if I could go back in a time machine, what would I do differently? Well, based on the results obtained, I would make vastly more use of my mp3 player (which is a cute little Muvo, half the price of an iPod and does everything I need it to do. It's been dropped, sprayed with water and has skulked around the bottom of my packed handbag for a couple of years now, and yet it still works like clockwork).

Basically I had a kind of a breakdown in my second year – I say kind of, because it amounted to regular, prolonged and very unpleasant panic attacks. These made traditional revision techniques very nearly impossible due to the malaise and fatigue they resulted in even when over. So I had to try something else and hit on the option of recording all my lecture notes onto my Muvo, then just lying in the dark and listening to it. (I realise this isn't exactly a revolutionary method now – or even then – but I hadn't tried it myself). This amounted to, I'd estimate, maybe 70% of my revision for my second year exams.

What were the results? Well, I didn't ace every test, or anything. But I did pass everything, with quite tolerable grades, average-to-good for the most part. Which surprised me, considering my state for half of the year.

What is really interesting is that my mental and physical health was much better in my third year. I considerably reduced my use of this technique as a result, and returned to conventional study methods. And what was the result of that? Errrr, average – not average-to-good, note – results across the board. Except for the one low-credit module I actually failed, but that's a story for the next post.

And that was after a year of working away at much more labour-intensive techniques than listening to my little Muvo. Drat. Kids, it's not an original thought, but sometimes it really is more important to work smart than to work hard. Although working hard, smartly, is the preferred option, always, and the one I recommend to you.

I'll detail my other illuminations on what I should have done to get a 2:1 during my degree course in another post.

my credit card is so hot it may melt

There it is, the shameful story - the story of my stash. (All right, not all of it. Most of it. Half of it. As much as I could grab when I took the photo okay?). I hadn't realised how much I'd bought over time, not at all. I was only inspired to find out and take this picture when I was adding up the figures for my upcoming first ever tax return. Month by month, page by page, I took away the provisional figures for my expenses away from the provisional figures for my turnover. And the result kept coming up red...

If I hadn't bought, oh, two thirds of this little lot, then the figure might have at least scraped into the black. And the thing is, I could still have made most of my inventory, while cutting my expenses that far.

Well, I think that's more than one lesson learned!

• Lesson 1: KEEP A ROUGH RUNNING BALANCE FOR YOUR INCOME AND EXPENSES and PROFIT. Don't just start plugging all the figures in at the end of the year!

I don't have to tell you, right? You've never been as dumb as that? Unfortunately, it appears I do have to tell ME! And not only that, but to act on it as well. From now on: I must know where my business finances stand. All the time, every time.

• Lesson 2: I CAN'T AFFORD TO BUY MORE STUFF: not till I'm back in the black, anyhow. Therefore: until that point, all craftiness must result from my EXISTING stash. Now there's a little jabbing demon, sticking a pitchfork into my calves to prod me into prodigious creativity. Yes! I am inspired!

Now: to not only learn these lessons, but to hold fast to them. I challenge myself, here and now.

Is it just a numbers game?

Paying my rent by selling books online, I mean.

Up to now, Ebay has led me to think so. Perhaps I have become spoilt that way. The income I have thus far received per 500 books/other items listed is not over-generous, perhaps - maybe £80-£120 a month. But it is reliable, and my landlord is a strange man who likes a reliable income, especially in his tenants.

Amazon income I have also found reliable - reliably underwhelming. With around 700-800 items listed, I regularly sell maybe 3 items a month, for perhaps £5-£20 quid. Whoop-de-doo who needs the lottery...

Now I have joined Ebid, and am up to nearly 100 items listed. Sales so far this month - 0. Zero.

Maybe I'm being unfair. I've been on there about two minutes. Still, that's a lot of listings for no sales at all. But for zero listings fees (minus the seller+ joinup fee), I'm willing to stick with it and give 'em a fair shot. I'm not crying uncle, not for a good 18 months yet. I will build it, and they will come - they damn well will come to www.ebid.net, and their wallets too.