Financial advisors scare me. At least, they did.
When I conjure up a mental picture of a financial advisor, I see a fifty year old man who is overweight, balding, overbearing, and wears too much aftershave. I also figured that people who use the services of a financial advisor are people who actually have money that can be given advice about. I did not think Clay and I fit the profile.
As it turns out, I was wrong on both accounts. Perhaps there are guys out there who fit my stereotype, but the one we met with this evening did not. He’s younger than us, slim build, full head of hair, confidently mild mannered, and only carried a slight scent of cologne – not even enough to set off the danger bell my inner smell alarm. He also had plenty to say to us: people who don’t have a lot of money to throw around.
We met with him because we’re going to transfer our mortgage, and perhaps our RRSPs. The lure of a 2.99% four year fixed rate drew us in, and I’m glad. I like the idea of having someone who knows the ins and outs of money going to bat for us and helping us figure out how to get the best return on our investments.
I’ve been pretty lazy in the money management department, and I’m looking forward to this being a kick start to being more aware of what’s going on. I used to be so organized in this area, and hopefully I will be again soon.
Where do you fall on the money continuum? Organized? Not? Careful budgeter? Fervent prayer that it will somehow all work out?