Appendix: The 12 Expensive Sentences
Every sentence below has cost somebody 6 figures. Most of them cost somebody 6 figures last week.
You’ve got the whole method now. This is a different kind of tool. It’s an early-warning system. These are the lines I hear at the exact moment a good decision starts going bad. From students, from parents, from forums, sometimes from my own younger self. Each one comes with what it really means and a cheaper sentence to say instead. When you catch yourself saying one, that’s the smoke alarm.
1. “I’ll figure out the money later.” This means you’ve decided to let the school and the lender figure it out for you. Later is when the figuring costs the most and changes the least. Say instead: “I’ll figure out the money first, while it’s calm, before I fall for a school.”
2. “It’s my dream school.” This means you’ve already decided, and now every fact gets sorted into evidence for the school. Dreams are for the work, not the vendor. Nobody’s dream is a particular financial aid office. Say instead: “It’s my current first choice, and it has to prove it on the Scorecard like all the others.”
3. “The loans cover it.” This means borrowed money has stopped feeling like money, which is the exact state the price was built to create. It’s also often false now that federal borrowing has limits. Say instead: “I cover it. The loans just decide when.”
4. “I don’t want to take the test again.” This means you’re about to pay 6 figures to avoid a few months of mornings. Nobody wants to retake, so that’s not information. Say instead: “What would a higher score pay me in better offers and more leverage?” Then decide like a buyer, not like someone who’s tired.
5. “I’ll just go this year. Waiting feels like falling behind.” This means the calendar is driving, and the calendar works for the schools. Behind whom? The classmates who graduate a year sooner with $120,000 more debt? Say instead: “A cycle is an investment with a price and a return. Let me price it before I commit.”
6. “I’ll be in the top 10%.” This means you’ve met a required curve and decided it applies to other people. Half of every class is in the bottom half, and every one of them said this. Say instead: “My plan has to work if I’m in the middle. The top 10% is a bonus, not the plan.”
7. “It’s only $30,000 more.” This means big numbers have broken your scale, so a year of someone’s salary now rounds to nothing. Picture it as a monthly payment for a decade and it stops being “only.” Say instead: “That’s real money for years. What exactly is it buying me, in plain nouns?”
8. “They don’t negotiate.” This means you read it somewhere, or the school said it, and part of you would rather not ask. Some schools hold the line on matching. Almost none have nothing to discuss. Renewal terms, need reconsideration, and timing are usually all on the table. Say instead: “They don’t negotiate what, exactly? Let me ask for the thing they do move on.”
9. “I can’t ask. It might look bad.” This means you believe the wedding-guest etiquette, and the enrollment office is counting on it. A polite, documented ask is a normal piece of professional mail. Say instead: “The worst realistic outcome is a polite no. And the average outcome, across everyone who asks well, is worth real money.”
10. “Everyone says go to the best school you get into.” This means you’re averaging advice from people who bought in a different market, at different prices, for different jobs. Most of them never saw an employment report. “Best” is doing a lot of unpriced work in that sentence. Say instead: “Best at what, for my city and the job I want, at which price?”
11. “I already told everyone I’m going.” This means sunk identity, the most expensive kind of sunk cost. The people you’re performing consistency for will spend exactly 0 months of the next 120 making your payments. Say instead: “I’d rather update 30 people once than carry the wrong budget for 10 years.”
12. “It’ll all work out.” This means you’ve run out of stamina for the decision and you’re handing the ending to hope. Things don’t work out on their own. People work them out, usually the people holding a worksheet. Say instead: “It’ll work out because I made it fit. Here’s the number, here’s the plan, here’s the line I won’t cross.” That sentence costs nothing, and it’s this whole book in one breath.
The buddy check
One use of this list beats all the others. Trade lists with a friend who’s also deciding, and give each other standing permission to call a sentence by its number when it shows up. “That’s a number 5” lands softer than a lecture and works better. The catching is the cure. These sentences do their damage in the dark, and they wilt the second someone names them out loud. If you’re deciding alone, your buddy is the dated worksheet. It never blinks.
Read the list once more and notice what every expensive sentence has in common. Each one hands the decision to someone else. The calendar, the brand, the lender, the crowd, the curve, hope. And every replacement hands it back to you. That handing-back is the whole point. You’ve been doing it this entire book.
