When living on tight margins, the highs are the same, but the lows are much lower.

When living on tight margins, the highs are the same, but the lows are much lower
Thinking on all of our time in that apartment, I can recall many of my favorite times. None of them have much to do with the apartment—they all have to do with the people in it. Whether that was our family, my former roommate, visiting friends or extended family.
The highs we experienced were no different than any other family’s.
In contrast though, the lows were much lower.
Now, I don’t mean the personal lows one family might encounter: illness, strife, financial woes, etc. Those would likely be as low no matter where you are. I am specifically referring to the lows that are more directly tied to the living space.
In a small space, the typical day is ok, but there are such thin margins of free space and separation. There are times when all of this implodes. One thing going wrong can tip the next wrong domino and cause a chain reaction
For example, consider the weekend in which I built the loft bed. In order to assemble it in the room, I needed to move everything out of the way, start attaching pieces, and stand things up against the wall while I started on another. There were screws and planks and sawdust everywhere. It took more than one day which meant there was a night where we neither had a finished loft bed nor room for a regular bed. Unfortunately I overestimated how much I could get
done and had to leave for a business trip. Sunday night I took the red eye, leaving my pregnant wife at home with a toddler in a construction zone with no bed to sleep on. Not our happiest goodbye. (I had cleaned up most of the screws and some of the sawdust)

A final, and more humorous situation I would often find myself in was early morning meetings with nowhere to go. The 12 person startup I moved to San Francisco for has grown into an international software company. That meant I’d sometimes be needed for early morning meetings at 5 or 6a.m. My typical day, as is common with San Francisco tech companies, usually started closer to 9 or 10a.m. Rather than wake up at 4a.m. to get ready and head into the office before a 5a.m call, my strategy had been to take the call in my PJs and then get ready and commute afterwards.

That worked great when I was single, had a roommate, and even when my wife moved in. But once the babies came onto the scene, it was tough. You never want to wake a sleeping baby. I tried the bathroom, but the babies would wake up. The eventual solution was to take the call from my car in the garage. I am proud to say I’ve helped close million+ dollar software deals in my PJs sitting in a car parked in my garage. But there were definitely some days I would sit there thinking "What the heck am I doing right now?"

We had some really tough days, but in the end I live a life of many blessings. Reflecting on these days, however, has given me much more understanding for those living life with less. Whether rich or poor, a normal day is a normal day. When you’re wealthy and your car breaks down, you can get a rental. But when you’re poor, paid hourly, and your transportation fails—that sort of thing can just compound into a really bad situation. Sick days can mean extra expenses and lost earnings at the same time. I think there are a lot of misconceptions about poverty, and even lower-to-middle class working lives. If we better understood margin and variance, it would really help us become more sympathetic and caring people.


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