Welcome to Money Diaries where we are tackling the ever-present taboo that is money. We’re asking real people how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last dollar.
Today: an advertising creative who makes $103,000 per year and who spends some of her money this week on a turkey costume for her cat.
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Occupation: Advertising creative
Industry: Media
Age: 41
Location: New York
Salary: $103,000
Assets: Roth IRA: $5,150.38; high yield savings: $12,000; savings: $3,200; checking: $2,000; 401(k): $63,622.70; HSA: $4,271
Debt: $500 credit card balance.
Paycheck amount (2x month): $2,577.40
Pronouns: She/her
Monthly Expenses
Housing costs: $2,250
Wi-fi: $60
Phone: $75
Verizon: $60
LinkedIn Premium: $30
CHANI app: $11
Netflix: $7.61
Amazon Prime: $15
Adobe: $32.65
Duotrope: $5
Literary Hub: $5
NYT: $18.34
Okocat: $23.74 (pellet litter).
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes. My parents did not go to college and struggled financially — they saw college as the way to upward mobility, particularly my mother. As a result, I took out student loans at age 18 to attend a private university. They were only forgiven last year.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
My role growing up was to excel in school, which is important but not the whole picture. I believe that financial literacy education should play a bigger part in public education — both at school and at home.
What was your first job and why did you get it?
I babysat, tutored and worked as a camp counselor all through high school, partially for spending money but also to build up my college applications.
Did you worry about money growing up?
I grew up lower-middle class in an affluent suburb. My parents did what they could to set me and my sibling up for a better life, but money was always a large concern for them — and often a source of discord. I was always aware of how much things cost, and spending caused feelings of worry and guilt.
Do you worry about money now?
Like many living in an expensive city, I’m cognizant of needing to save more. I’m probably behind for my age, financially, but I’m cautiously optimistic about my ability to continue building financial security and earning power.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
I became financially responsible for myself when I graduated from college at 22. Any financial safety net I may or may not have would be of my own making.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
No, I’ve been working to improve my knowledge of investing, including ideas for generating passive income, but it’s really in the beginning stages. I haven’t inherited any income but I’m open to it if Martha Stewart would like to claim me as a dependent.
Day One: Monday
6:45 a.m. — Welcome to my grind! (Spoiler alert: As a volunteer animal rescuer, it skews very “cat” these days.) Today begins with a 6:45 a.m. feeding time for my house cats (cats are notoriously creatures of habit — we established this routine when I adopted them in late 2021). My latest foster cat, A., gets a 3oz can of the premium cat food my house cats eat (I rescued A. over the winter; she’s a sweet senior who obviously deserves the same bougie organic food as my house cats, though it does cost more). I’m running low so I go onto chewy.com and place an order. $60
7:30 a.m. — I brush my teeth and begin my day. I’m a Soka Gakkai Buddhist, so this includes my daily practice of chanting the mantra “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo” (Tina Turner’s iconic biopic and musical are good reference points for what it’s like). Chanting helps me start my day intentionally, tap into my wisdom, and position myself to have a great day. No one feels like their best self when they first wake up and for me, chanting is how I tap into the confidence to go after my goals (or handle setbacks, depending on the day).
9 a.m. — I work from home as a marketing creative at a large corporation; today I’m finishing up some work to present to a client at a late morning meeting. On busy mornings like this one I’ll eat something fast — this morning it’s toast with ricotta cheese.
12 p.m. — I need some air so I go outside to feed my “colony” of outdoor community cats — my crew of regulars that I’ve gotten fixed and continue to care for and feed. I have access to some low-cost spay and neuter services at clinics like the ASPCA, but municipal resources are few on the ground, so I’ve come to factor a 24-pack of 5.5oz cans of Friskies into my regular expenses as the most cost-effective way to keep everyone fed. It adds up, especially when you factor in the other costs like flea meds and shelters.
1:30 p.m. — I take a break between meetings to give my indoor cats a snack. For A., that means crushing up her heart meds and layering the crumbles into some of her favorite squeezy treat, Churu. A. has a grade 3 heart murmur and takes atenolol; luckily, her medication is just $3 a month with my insurance (in the sea of financial Ls I take in the name of rescue, I take the wins where I can). I also brush my cats’ teeth and reward them with their (pricey) dental kibble. They were diagnosed with juvenile gingivitis when they were kittens. Did I mention they’re littermates and that it was hereditary?
3 p.m. — The rest of the afternoon is meetings and smaller projects and digital housekeeping tasks.
5:30 p.m. — I feed the indoor cats dinner, and then head outside to feed the outside goobers. I have been steadily working to socialize these buddies with the hope that eventually they will be ready to come inside and be adopted. I’ve gotten around 25 cats off the street since 2022 (this is relatively low-volume for the average rescuer). If you’d asked me in 2021 whether I thought I’d be getting stray cats fixed — much less continue to care for them and work to get them adopted — I would have thought you were an extremely unserious person. Ultimately though, I see them every day — day in and day out, in all types of weather — and not helping is not an option for me. It does feel good to make a difference but financially, emotionally, and time-wise, the cost is high.
7:30 p.m. — I put my dinner together: a straightforward Asian/Italian pasta fusion recipe I found on New York Times Cooking, which I rotate with a few other easy weeknight recipes. Takeout undeniably frees up time and energy — especially during the week — but inflation is real even if numbers aren’t. I am not passionate about cooking but I’m proud that I have been more consistent about fending for myself lately.
Daily Total: $60
Day Two: Tuesday
6:45 a.m. — Awake to screaming (my cats’). I would not say that animal welfare work lends itself to a balanced lifestyle. On a good night I will get maybe six and a half hours of sleep. (Side note: I think I’ve convinced myself that this is normal but my body will sleep for hours when it can. We worship productivity in this country, but it’s a cult.)
8 a.m. — I begin chanting. My practice gives me a safe space to confront and process all the feelings. This morning, I’m internally going over a family problem. I usually walk away feeling better able to tackle challenges — I also feel likelier to say the right thing or find more empathy for someone with whom I’m having a disagreement. Pulling myself out of a slump was 100% not a skill I had when I was a young adult struggling with depression. I will always have problems, but with chanting I will also always have a way to solve them.
9 a.m. — Put on a pot of coffee and slather some toast with almond butter. I live in an ungentrified neighborhood without coffee shops, so I’ve been making coffee at home. I miss being able to sit in a cafe to do work and people-watch but for now I’m not sad about breaking my addiction to spending $7+ on a beverage/treats whenever I leave my apartment.
11:30 a.m. — A light breakfast means it’s time to take a break from deadlines for an early lunch. I heat up the leftover pasta from last night. Cooking is a pain but has good mileage — one home-cooked meal gets me through a couple of days of remote work. Thank you, me from the past!
1 p.m. — TOXIC MONEY TRAIT ALERT: I am out of Friskies for the outdoor crew so I place an order on Postmates. I add a few cans of my house cats’ food too. $56, plus an $11 tip. $67
7 p.m. — After a day of work politics, then wrangling the colony cats outside, plus various cat chores (including for A.), I’m beat. I find this work rewarding but it beats me that it isn’t a paid job — for me or for anyone else.
8:30 p.m. — I’m tired but I dig into some leftover pasta while tweaking design notes for a children’s book manuscript that I have been writing and developing for a few years now (I have zero regrets about what I’ve done to help animals who need it, but it does cut into my time and energy for personal creativity). The text is there but I’ve been finishing up the illustration guidelines to accompany the story and help move it forward. I lost a previous draft of the design notes when I spilled coffee on my laptop (RIP), but luckily this version is looking even better and tighter. I’m looking for a literary agent and with these design notes the text feels more complete, more ready, more book-like. I’m excited to resubmit soon.
Daily Total: $67
Day Three: Wednesday
7 a.m. — Sometimes I’ll go back to bed after feeding my cats, but on Wednesdays I coordinate with the women in my Buddhist group to chant from home together for the peace of our community.
10 a.m. — Work is a little slow this morning. Since I have some extra time, I take 15 minutes to make oatmeal on my stovetop. I add fruit, plus milk and brown sugar. I’m no hero; anyone who says that they eat their oatmeal unsweetened is lying to you!
2 p.m. — Back to work meetings, followed by a break — I am circling the drain on these leftovers, but they will do for lunch today. A. gets her heart meds with Churu and my cats get their teeth brushed, followed by dental treats. I’m in the minority of cat parents who brush their pets’ teeth so I’ll share an anecdote of how I got here. I’ll always fondly recall the moment when, after examining my kittens’ teeth and smelling their breath, my vet immediately said, “Oof. Brushing. Dental wipes.” When I nervously asked which one, she said, “Both.” The alternative was likely (very expensive) teeth removal surgery. Three years in, we all still have our teeth (and fingers, for my part) so that’s positive.
2:30 p.m. — Oof, sometimes life feels like an endless shopping list. I order some essentials like shampoo and face wash online, as well as latex gloves (for handling cat-related grossness of all kinds), bird seed for my house cats’ bird TV subscription (please forgive the dad joke), and more of their chicken-flavored toothpaste (sigh). $73
2:45 p.m. — I debate internally whether it’s time to start feeding squirrels, too. I decide it’s not. Yet.
6 p.m. — Feeding the colony is an exercise in chaos sometimes — think four cats all going for the same bowl (FYI there are four bowls). There are times I legit feel the need for a drink after a particularly hectic feeding session (but I am only a social drinker and don’t indulge it).
6:30 p.m. — I crack and order from a local Indian restaurant on Uber Eats. Saag paneer is my favorite. $40 (including tip).
6:45 p.m. — Time for evening chanting, which always helps me to decompress after a busy day. I can mentally review and process everything that happened, so it’s a nice bookend.
9:45 p.m. — Mild sleep deprivation + work + cats + heavy food = I pass out on the couch — but not before I imagine feeling a tremor and send a local friend a text asking “DID YOU ALSO FEEL THAT EARTHQUAKE?” (Reader, she didn’t.) I wake up a few hours later to find A. nestled by my head, purring. Dream kitty!
Daily Total: $113
Day Four: Thursday
10 a.m. — Today is a busy one. My work culture has become increasingly meeting-oriented; I squeeze in some actual work — and a banana, in lieu of breakfast — when I have a breather.
11:30 a.m. — In between work tasks I manage to check in on an offer I made on Depop (a “vintage” 2004 Coach purse, $27 with shipping). I’ve always enjoyed thrifting for the thrill of the hunt — the sustainability aspect makes it that much more compelling. I’ve also apparently arrived at the age where the clothing of my adolescence is relevant again. I still have some of my jewelry from the early aughts and have broken it out recently. Someone should have told me to hold on to my cargo pants too. $27
3 p.m. — Various work tasks and related conversations on Microsoft Teams. To be quite honest, I’m not in love with my corporate job, but for now I’m trying to honor my commitments and use it as a growth experience, since it’s paying my rent and provides health insurance. The dream is to only leave this job for a book deal, and until then it’s an opportunity to work on myself and my relationships.
3:30 p.m. — I take advantage of a lull in the afternoon to tackle the dishes in my sink. I try to be a good citizen and wash my recyclables; I’ll generally wash my cats’ food cans right away but leave the lids, which are less soiled, in the sink for later. Today, their accumulation at the bottom of my soapy sink reminds me of how medieval Europeans would line their floors with a layer of rushes as a carpet. Poetic, right? (History nerds should 100% check out Ruth Goodman’s How to Be a Tudor — I’m consistently impressed by Goodman’s scholarship, and always tickled by her willingness to recreate and experience the down and dirty of historic living herself.)
5:30 p.m. — I trek out to my therapy session in another borough — it’s always a nice break from my remote work schedule. Health coverage is such a necessity in this country, and these days I feel lucky to have it as a salaried creative professional — I haven’t always been adequately covered in the past. It’s unfortunate that US healthcare is a for-profit business and that medical debt is a reality for so many. $9 (copay).
8 p.m. — Pick up some groceries and cat supplies. I also grab some savory baked goods at a local bakery for dinner. $125
9:30 p.m. — Back home, I’m accosted by the colony cats, who figured out where I live a long time ago. I appease them with squeezy treats because they have to live outside and also because I like them. Inside, I crash on the couch with my phone and do some scrolling. I follow dozens of animal welfare-related Instagram accounts run by fellow rescuers in NYC, and donate $20 to a GoFundMe posted by a friend who rescued a cat from a bodega (the cat has a kidney issue requiring expensive surgery). Bodega cats are such NYC icons but the sad reality is that they’re often neglected (sometimes it’s vet costs, sometimes it’s values). In the meantime, rescuers resort to fundraising via GoFundMe, Venmo, and PayPal to cover for their veterinary issues. Are we seeing any parallels here? $20
Daily Total: $181
Day Five: Friday
10 a.m. — It’s Friday damn it, so I am ordering a breakfast sandwich and coffee to reward myself for getting through the week. I order from a place in my old neighborhood that’s known for Southern biscuits — it’s so good that I don’t care that one time they packed the coffee poorly and it spilled and soaked into the sandwich. On that occasion I ate the sandwich, which was no worse for a splash of coffee. $32 (including tip).
11 a.m. — I have a late morning meeting but thankfully it’s not one of those Fridays where everything is on fire.
1:30 p.m. — In between work tasks, I break apart a head of broccoli, sprinkle it with olive oil, kosher salt, and shaved Parmesan, and roast in the oven — one of my go-to healthy(ish) snacks. On my lunch break, I find myself tapping aimlessly on my phone and I end up pulling the trigger on a tube of Violette_FR eyeshadow I’ve been eyeing for a while (all the verbs I considered here were accidental eye puns). $32
4:30 p.m. — I don’t know how I got here but Fridays after work have become my regular time to change my indoor cats’ litter boxes. I use wood pellet litter as the healthier alternative to clay and I’ve opted out of a litter box robot, despite the potential for convenience (since cats like to dig). The only litter box robot here is me 🙁
Daily Total: $32
Day Six: Saturday
6:45 a.m. — The cats don’t know it’s Saturday so it’s business as usual as far as their breakfast is concerned. I feed them and go back to bed.
9 a.m. — I’d have liked to have slept a little longer but I have things to do on this beautiful Saturday. I brush my teeth, chant, and otherwise prep for my day. I toast a leftover biscuit from yesterday as a nod to breakfast.
11 a.m. — Get A. ready for her vet appointment. She’s really settling into indoor life nicely and has been busy batting some catnip toys around. At 7, she’s already considered a senior cat so it’s really moving to see her play after having spent most of her life surviving the streets.
1 p.m. — Today’s vet visit includes an echocardiogram, which is part of A.’s long-term care plan — a murmur at her level means an echocardiogram every six months. Her forever family is definitely out there, but this medical issue means that I need to find an adopter who’s not only responsible and 1,000% committed but also financially secure enough to afford her care. Vet bills are not a joke! Financing vet care is often part of a volunteer rescuer’s work — this visit is $400, plus a 30-minute Uber Pet ride there and back ($90 including tip). $490
4 p.m. — Saturdays are for napping, so I sneak one in before feeding the community cats outside at around 5:30 p.m.
7 p.m. — I rally from my day of animal caregiving (I don’t think I can overemphasize how much work it is to feed a crew of outdoor cats with varying levels of food insecurity and territorial dominance) to meet up with a friend for a drink a few neighborhoods away. It is extremely worth it. Subway ride + cocktail + tip = $20
Daily Total: $510
Day Seven: Sunday
10 a.m. — I head out to a Buddhist meetup at a local member’s home. My Buddhist group is organized by geographic location, which in New York City amounts to connecting with fellow practitioners in your neighborhood. The community is really diverse, which is something I love. My neighborhood is weirdly situated, geographically — more often than not, a public transit journey will take me 40 minutes or more, versus a 15- or 20-minute Uber ride (oh yeah, that’s my other toxic money trait). $22 (including tip).
10:30 a.m. — The event is great. We talk about how we’re all using our practice to tackle relationship problems, health issues, career goals, and other real-life challenges. Buddhism isn’t necessarily just about establishing emotional stasis (although sustainable happiness is part of it) — the purpose of chanting is ultimately to help us develop inner strength so we can do the internal work required to make tangible changes in our lives. And we do it together, so it’s fun.
12:30 p.m. — I get the subway ($2.90) to meet up with a pal for brunch. We have coffee, waffles, and a mimosa ($45). $47.90
3 p.m. — We poke into a nearby bookshop afterward to browse. I’m an avid reader but tend to be pretty discriminating about the books I spend money on — I’d rather borrow an e-book from the local library than drop coin on a read I may not fall in love with (especially since space is of the essence in a New York City apartment). Today I make an exception, though, to purchase a Susanna Clarke novel, Piranesi. Clarke is a talented and inventive writer and I’m happy to invest in her work. $17.99
5 p.m. — Is the sky blue? Is water wet? My community cats are waiting for me outside when I get home. As I’m feeding them, I pull out my box trap and leave it out so the latest feline newcomer — a pale orange tomcat I’ve been calling C. — can get used to it (and thus be more readily beguiled later). The idea is to get him fixed and break the cycle of having more kittens around than resources to support them. While my regulars are all fixed now, it’s inevitable that someone new will show up sooner or later, because there are so many cats in this neighbourhood. It looks like C. is too wary of the trap to go near it this afternoon, even though I’ve placed his food down and he’s definitely hungry. One of these days, buddy. One of these days.
9 p.m. — I spend the evening doing some chores around the apartment, including some dusting and vacuuming. I’m not cooking tonight but I do prep a few ingredients so I can put together a spinach and feta orzo recipe tomorrow. I play with my house cats and A., who appreciate the love.
10 p.m. — I decide to turn in early for once in my life. I make it through a few chapters of my new copy of Piranesi, which is already diametrically different from the author’s iconic debut novel, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. Clarke’s range is nuts. I eventually manage to tear my eyes away, put the book down and go to sleep — but not before I remember that Thanksgiving is coming up and my male cat definitely needs that turkey costume I saw on Chewy earlier. $12
Daily Total: $99.89
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