How the hell do I get started?

As much as I talk a big talk about money and pretend I’ve got it all figured out (and if I could just get a damn 50% raise already I’d be good to go!), that’s not actually the case. Some days I’m internally screaming because while I’ve maybe started figuring out my shit, I feel like I’m sitting at the bottom of Mount Everest and financial independence is aaaallllllllll the way at the top. Y’all, I haven’t even done the math on how long it’s actually going to take to reach FI/climb the damn mountain because I’m afraid to. Continue reading “How the hell do I get started?”

On not saving money by moving

I forget every year that it’s going to happen, but because of timing, summer becomes a not-great period of the year for me. The three or so months before it’s time to renew my lease always turn into a sustained period of low-grade anxiety about Moving and other such Life Decisions. This is probably more of a big deal than it needs to be, since it seems like in the process of scouring Craigslist to decide where I should live for the next year, I should probably figure out things like what I want to do with my life, or at least what I wouldn’t hate doing from 9-5 five days a week. Continue reading “On not saving money by moving”

Progress, not perfection

Ever since I can remember I’ve struggled with perfectionism. Maybe it’s oldest child syndrome or something, but somewhere early on I got this idea in my head that everything I did needed to be perfect. I had to get perfect grades growing up, and let me tell you, in college that translated into way too much time spent studying and absolutely way too much heartache over my few A- grades. I had to be the nice, well-behaved child or I’d let my parents down somehow. I needed to know what was happening three weeks in advance so I could put it in my planner. I didn’t start drinking until fairly late in college because I was afraid to lose control.

During college I recognized that being so inflexible and focused on everything being just right was making my life harder, not easier, and less fun, so during my sophomore year I tried to start relaxing my uptight perfectionist qualities, just a bit. Continue reading “Progress, not perfection”