- I went from having a full-time office job to freelancing and had to adjust my spending.
- I cut down on fun things, like going out for dinner and buying fancy items from the supermarket.
- I rely on my parents to pay for fun things, and I eagerly accept their help.
When I changed my career from a salaried office job to freelancing, it came with the understanding that my relationship with money would change. But I still wasn't prepared for how often I'd have to dejectedly reckon with the same gnawing question: "Is there a cheaper way to do this?"
Every trip to the store, every weekend plan, and every activity required that I do the least-expensive version — or skip it altogether.
I basically downgraded my lifestyle.
I stopped doing a lot of the things I liked because of money
When my total income began to look like the portion of my past paychecks I put into savings, the first expenses I had to cut were those little pleasant parts of life. As much as I may enjoy them, I don't need them the same way I need to pay rent and buy groceries. No more fancy IPAs; I drink Miller now. No more appetizers — in fact, no more eating out at all. No more Gatorade when I pass by a Wawa, because I have water at home. If it's hot out, I turn off the air conditioning and put some ice cubes in my water bottle. New clothes are for when I need, not want, them.
I recently found myself standing in the conditioner aisle at CVS, using my phone's calculator to calculate the price per milliliter. Do you know what's a great snack? Yes, chips and salsa. But do you know what a great snack is when you don't have any money? A 3-pound bag of Great Value peanuts.
My parents pay for the fun things
That's where my parents come in. Because of them, I finally have a chance to partake in the finer things (mind you, not the "finest" things — just finer).
They don't help with rent, utilities, or the many things I'm fortunate enough to at least be able to afford. But if you've ever eaten ramen with sliced carrots day after day while your apartment gets stuffier and warmer, sometimes just knowing your folks are taking you to lunch in a couple weekends keeps you going.
It's not life or death, but enjoying something outside your budget, even for an hour, goes a long way to making spartan weeks and months bearable. I don't buy a lot of groceries — mostly rice, cheese, and occasionally eggs. And a lot of bagels; bagels are recession-proof. When my parents come to visit and offer to buy me groceries, I get bread from a bakery, whatever coffee beans are not on sale, and Cheez-Its — everything I usually don't allow myself to buy.
I don't purchase top-shelf alcohol. I buy cheap beer, which is a bummer because back when I did have the money, I let myself become an IPA snob. But when my parents are here, I'm ordering the weiss beer that's new on the draft list for a limited time only. I might get two. Salad and appetizers? If my parents are offering them, then it's a yes.
I turn on my AC unit for an hour at a time a few days a week — and only when it's sweltering. But when I visit home, the question "Is it too cold in here?" does not have an affirmative answer. When I get to my parents and get to eat deli meat for the first time in weeks, I watch TV in their ice box of a den because I also canceled my streaming services.
I used to be embarrassed to accept my parents' help when I had an office job; I'm not sure why. Now that money's tight, they've become like an airline unexpectedly boosting a passenger to business class. They upgrade me, and I eagerly accept.
My mom has caught on. She recently offered me two bags of walnuts that had been sitting in her cupboard for, I want to say, years. She might as well have offered me sacks of gold. I had salads all week. It's still a Waldorf if there are no grapes or blue-cheese crumbles, right? It had apples, of course. Someone has to buy those marked-down Red Delicious ones.