broke

Back to Basics

Oh hey look everyone, now that’s I’ve started an official blog about money, I’m doing worse financially than ever. (Ok, maybe not ever.) Hmm, wonder what that’s about.

I realized while at Sasquatch that I’m up to my old shit again. Going to an event that I can’t really afford, one eye on the concert and one on my funds running low.

On the way home, I had $12 in my bank account and had to put $11.99 in my gas tank.

What is up?

I realized I forgot about the basics, the things that kept my blog going and got me out of $20,000 in debt when I started the first iteration of this blog 7 years ago:

  1. Someone I didn’t want to disappoint reading it. In my case, Jeri.
  2. A visual representation of my progress or lack there of. In other words, graphs.

So here I am, getting back to basics.

Hi Jeri. Thanks for reading this after I email it to you.

And here are my graphs.

I thought about making pretty ones in Illustrator, and I do want to do that one day. But with this blog paying zero dollars, needing hours to market my book, and not making jack s this year, I don’t have time.

If you don’t have time for the fancy, go with the rinky dink. The rinky dink is still something.

So here are my ugly graphs.

Ok this is my normal Net Worth graph, but I realized the scale is too huge and dips seem so little, so I made one for just this year. Wee what a fun slide into financial ruin I’m on.

This is one area I’m proud of. I haven’t put anything toward retirement in two years, which is bad. But when I had the tech job, I threw money in there like crazy because I knew saving early was key and when I was in my first years of full-time writing, I would be making jack s.

If you do not have a retirement account, start one with Acorns today, literally. I’m not kidding.

Hey, that’s not good! Short-term stuff is money I have on hand, and includes my checking accounts and my owed taxes, which are $3,800.

My Fuck Off Fund is a fucking disgrace.

 

But I don’t totally hate myself.

I’m working so hard these days. It’s the year of the grind. I am doing shit. It’s not all money-making right now, but I’m building momentum for my career that I fully trust will pay off in the future.

Where Have You Been?: May 10th Not Monday Money Check-In

God everything’s a shitshow right now. An exciting, scary, pit-of-stomach, oh-my-heart shit show. Over the last month I’ve gone from San Francisco to New York, from the offices of The New York Times to free fancy dinners paid for by years of practicing writing to a housein the Catskills filled with badass women to my apartment wondering where I’ll get my next paycheck.

It was all “work.” Work in the sense that I was drumming up business, negotiating a raise with my steadiest freelancing client, brainstorming story ideas with two editors at The Times.

And none of it was “work.” It was not work in the sense that no one was paying me, except for the $500 speaking fee (poofed when I bought my flight and found a $50-a-night-room to stay in).

I finished my book on Tuesday, for which the two checks of $2,400 have long come and gone. I finished an essay I’ve been working on for months and submitted to Modern Love, but even if it gets accepted I’ll get $300 in, maybe, six months from now. Fuck Off Funds were in Cosmo and Glamour this month, for which I got $0.

I cannot cash my rent check on publicity, or connections, or exposure. They will pay off, someday. But I have $285 after my rent check clears (and I cannot, cannot bounce it again), and really no solid idea of where my next check will come from.

So today is spent hustling, and I will just keep bouncing back.

I so believe, more than ever, that I am on the verge. I will be paid well within the next few years. The book will give me a platform to make more money. Those stories will be published in The Times.

But damn, shit feels real right now.