LET'S TALK ABOUT MINIMALISM

When I started this YouTube stock trading and investing video series, I thought I’d finally found a way to combine two of my passions: The stock market and minimalism. It was perfect. After all, minimalism frees up your finances. You’re not beholden to sleazy corporate marketing that preys on your wants and needs. Once free from the shackles of consumerism, you will have SOOO much more money.

And everyone loves money, right?

Here’s the problem: I don’t talk about minimalism very much. The reason? What more could I possibly add to the conversation that hasn’t been said ad nauseam?? There is literally nothing else that can be said. Nothing new. And in the keeping of minimalism: People should frankly stop talking about it. To say anything more about minimalism is simply driven by your own ego at this point. It’s clutter.

If you truly care about minimalism, you won’t say anything more about it.

HOWEVER … in this new virus stricken, global pandemic world in which we live, suddenly, there is something to discuss in the world of minimalism. Most notably, the things we’ve deprived ourselves from having because, well, it’s just too easy to acquire those things as needed.

And suddenly, it is not.

I’m very comfortable in my small 595 square foot apartment. I have a nice living room. A big king sized bed. A kitchen. I even have a bathtub. And not one of those 1970s tiny ass apartment building bath tubs, either. I actually fit in mine.

In the summer, DC has dozens of public pools that I could use. Even my mom’s apartment building down the street has one. I can sit outside, plug in my headphones, and just relax.

My building has a dog park. And during the weekdays, it is barren. Nobody is there because everyone is at work. If I feel cooped up, I can go outside and sit in the dog park in privacy. Minimalism allows this. Sometimes, on my way home from the gym, I will stop, take a seat and enjoy the weather. Alone. And since I trade stocks, I can work from anywhere. Even from my cell phone if need be.

I don’t need to load up my cupboards with food and supplies, because there is a grocery store within four blocks from my house.

But this virus has changed everything. Suddenly, I am finding myself a prisoner to my apartment. And if we’re being totally honest: I don’t mind it. Have you seen those memes where it’s like, “When you find out that your regular daily life is suddenly being called ‘self isolation’ …” That’s my life. I don’t need a lot of social interaction. I can stay indoors for days on end and not see or speak to another person and be totally fine.

You know those prison movies where the guards drag some prisoner down the hallway saying he’s going in the hole for 30 days? And when he comes out, he’s full on insane? Not me. I could do that and be totally fine. In fact, when they came to get me 30 days later, I’d be like, “Wow! Has it been 30 days already? You know, my mother always said … time flies …” (Why do people say that? My mom always said … you know your mom didn’t invent that phrase, right? That wasn’t a “your mom” original line. Every mom says that. I hate when people say that) …

I am not saying I’m giving up on minimalism. I’m not going to run out and start spending. In fact, one of the things I like about this virus is the lack of spending even I’m doing. I am worried however, that no one else is learning this put your wallet away and read a book lesson. I’ve been selling some clothes and things on eBay and Facebook Marketplace for ages and ages and guess what! Since this virus broke out, I’ve sold almost every single item. People are probably doing more shopping now, because they’re bored. And that frustrates me.

What I am saying, however, is that as a minimalist, some of the decisions I made are coming back to hurt me. I didn’t need a lot of space in my apartment, because I could always just go outside! Well, now I can’t. Oh, sure, the dog park is still there. And so long as you “social distance” yourself, it’s fine to sit outside. Problem is: EVERYONE IN MY BUILDING wants to be outside, now. So, my once private weekday dog park is now jam packed with neighbors and dogs, standing around, chatting, talking in annoying dumb human voices, narrating everything their dogs do. OH I’M GOING TO GO SNIFF MR MUFFIN’S BUTT! NOW I’M GOING TO WALK OVER HERE AND PICK UP A BALL! Oh and here comes Daisy! She wants to play with the ball too! Daisy says GIVE ME THE BALL, MR MUFFIN!!

The sooner I catch this virus, the better. Just kill me.

I’ve lost my privacy. I can’t sit outside anymore without half a dozen neighbors coming within six feet of me to chat.

I can’t go to the gym anymore. It is closed. And since I do not have a big house with lots and lots of room (thanks, minimalism), I cannot buy tons of gym equipment. And the minimalist in me doesn’t want tons of equipment. This virus will end, eventually, and I’ll be able to go back to the gym. But goddamn! In the mean time, I wish I had more than a set of resistance bands (hastily ordered last week before they sold out) and one single 40 lbs. kettlebell.

I don’t have a pool. I saw someone on Instagram who had a pool in his backyard. What I’d give to have a backyard right now. What I’d give to have a pool. What I’d give to have a balcony! I opted out of looking for apartments with balconies because … who ever thought it’d be ILLEGAL TO GO OUTSIDE?

Now, all I want to do is go outside.

Le sigh …

I don’t have a huge kitchen with endless storage for canned goods and supplies.

I don’t have a washer/dryer in my unit. I declined to install one because why spend over $2000 setting one up when I had a perfectly fine communal laundry room downstairs?

I don’t have a linen closet big enough to hoard toilet paper.

On the plus side, I am driving my car far less frequently. I am also doing far less laundry, because, well, I’m not going anywhere. And when I workout in my home, I don’t have to wear a shirt. I’m not going out for dinner with friends, which, as much as I enjoy it, it does get expensive.

And, perhaps most importantly, this virus has given me the perfect excuse to get out of events. Neighbors want to have a social distancing BBQ out back? Ahhh, wish I could, but you know. I don’t want to give this virus to my mom. Sorrrryyyyyy.