I’d rather have the flexibility of (not quite, but soon!) $10,000 in the bank rather than $10,000 in loans, for the relatively low cost of $2,000 in interest. I’m risk-adverse.
The end goal is to live long enough to watch capitalism be dismantled so I can continue to make art and take care of the regrettable physical necessities like eating and shelter.
In a move I attribute entirely to The Billfold, I set up a whole bunch of sub-savings accounts last year, and it’s been great.
“I really like how structured it is and how it makes you think. It’s not so much about math, it’s about finding the appropriate place to put a number. It’s sort of like solving a puzzle. Each amount of money is it’s own little piece and once you place them all together and they fit your budget, it’s like you’ve solved the puzzle.”
Financial freedom, even on a small scale, is amazing. Being able to say yes without sweating the cost is excellent. I’m not talking trips around the world, but Prince tickets or a quick weekend away.
“I don’t think anyone’s quite figured out the golden ticket for making financially sustainable digital publications, other than advertising.”
When I upped my game in terms of grooming and clothes, the response from my co-workers and clients was extremely positive and while I was able to land a new job based on my merits, looking the part certainly helped!
“Since I don’t know of a clear way to make more, I am going somewhere where the same amount hopefully buys more.”
“My salary is $55,000 and the take-home is about $850 a week. This is actually the first cooking job I’ve had where I’ve been salaried and the pay itself is much higher than in the past.”
I interviewed a handful of lowercase-f friends, acquaintances, former coworkers, and internet strangers about how they experience money issues in friendships. Is income disparity a dealbreaker, or no big deal? Is it more awkward to be the rich friend or the broke friend?