I was 221 lbs so down 199 from my starting weight of 420. I wanted to lose 210 lbs to be half the person I used to be, but after four three months of working downtown I had stabilized here and I thought this would be a good weight to make my new home. Maybe surgery would remove 10 lbs of whatever and I would reach my target but this seemed unlikely. So, with heavy heart, and a soon to be empty wallet, I called to schedule two procedures to get rid of an excess of me. Time to shrink.
I called to schedule an initial pre-op visit:
*chatter about scheduling*
Receptionist: Everything will be fine, the doctor is quite skilled.
Me: I’m not worried about the doctor, I’m worried about the anesthesiologist.
Receptionist: Don’t say that. Everything will be fine.
Me: What? He’s five times more likely to kill me than the surgeon.
Receptionist: STOP SAYING THAT.
Me: Hey, I’m an actuary, I know these things.
Receptionist: Well, I’m sure the anesthesiologist is good too. Have a nice day, actuary.
I have many boxes of Magic cards and the bulk total is about 60,000. I stack them in cardboard boxes but over time, their shear weight crushes these boxes leading me to replace these boxes annually at a cost of about 24 dollars (8 5000 ct boxes at 3 dollars a piece after tax). I hypothesized that I could double the lifetime of a box by putting it on shelves. Being an actuary, assuming a 5% annual rate of return and 10 years more of Magic I could spend 95 dollars on getting kickin’ shelves and come out ahead actuarially, which is how I’d always preferred to come out (… I should probably rephrase that).
I tell my dad of my revelation and head to Lowes, hit home organization and see the $60 black matte shelf unit I wanted. I pump my fist in actuarial triumph and grab the box and two extra $12.00 shelves… which are only available in chrome. I put the shelf unit box down and go to the chrome shelving unit and stop in horror upon seeing it’s a model-busting $75. I could have off color shelves but then how could I sleep at night? Could I be so callous and just let my model? I sigh, grab the chrome shelf unit and slump home. I get home, and my dad asks me why I look so glum to which I respond: “My model couldn’t survive my dedication to looking fabulous.”
Afterword: If I can get the boxes to last 16 months, my model will live again. Keep this cardboard in your thoughts and prayers.
In my BA 2101 “Get Ready to Work” class, one assignment consisted of creating a fake experience portfolio for a job interview. The process was to think about a hypothetical piece of work you could provide to an employer to prove competence in your field. Easy for a photographer, actor, or writer, not so easy for an actuary. I wrote the following:
- Randomly select 10 people from local retirement home
- Guess when they’ll die
- Check-up periodically, select new people as fogeys succumb to icy hand of death
I hope that counts. Should it not, like four would become “based on results, adjust investments in Centrum Silver and coffin manufacturers accordingly.