Drowning in debt and housing payments with a low income? Not sure how to put that extra money away for the things in your life that actually bring you joy? Here are some ideas that might help you save some cash and live the type of life you’ve always dreamed of.
- Allow yourself no more than one “fun” purchase per month.
- Only buy generic brands. Honey Nut Tasteos anybody? Yumm!
- Don’t go grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You’re more likely to buy more than you need.
- Every time you pay with cash, put all the change in a jar at home. When it’s full, deposit it into your savings.
- Try to only buy used items- clothes, furniture, books, you name it.
- Treat yourself to one meal out a week. Try to cook the rest at home.
- Cut back on the number of monthly streaming services you subscribe to.
- Set automated monthly deposits into your savings account.
- Marry rich. That way, you won’t even have to save money.
- Put $10 into a savings account every time you cry.
- Sell all of your belongings except for what’s essential.
- Use that money to purchase a used van.
- Ditch the mortgage/rent payments. You now live in your van.
- You set out on the road with your new, used van. It’s just you and your Fanny (that’s the name of your van). You don’t know where you’re going; you’ve decided to let your heart lead the way. Something’s telling you to head south. Isn’t that where the birds go in the winter, after all? And aren’t you free as a bird now?
- 80 miles down the highway and you’re already low on gas. You see a sign: “Gas Next Exit”. You exit and pull into the station.
- At the pump next to you, there’s another van. A woman wearing overalls with her hair in braids is leaning against the side, waiting for the tank to fill with gas. You catch her eye. She squints, considering you a moment before speaking. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. You ignore her and start pumping your own gas.
- The woman is about to leave. But, before she goes, she makes sure to speak to you.
- “Hey,” she says, coming up to you. “Cool van.”
- “Thanks,” you say. “I’m saving a butt-load of money by living in it.” You look down at your feet. Did you say too much?
- “No way!” she says. “I live in my van too! How long have you been doing it?”
- You laugh, relieved. “Almost 4 hours now!”
- “Say,” she says. “You ever thought about living at a commune?”
- Two hours later, the two of you sit drinking black gas-station coffee on one of those concrete picnic table stained with gum and bird poop. The woman, who’s name you learn is Grace, has completely convinced you to follow her to Moonlight Ranch, a community of approximately 60 like-minded individuals foregoing the ways of capitalism and living and farming in the desert of California. She heard about it on the internet and has been planning her move for the past two years. The only price for admission? You need to have some kind of special skill. Grace is apparently exceptional at making friendship bracelets. You pray that your two years of improv comedy in college are enough to get you in.
- 18 Hours later, you and Grace arrive in your vans at the remote California ranch. You reach a locked chain-link gate. You see Grace get out of her van in front of you and pull something out of her pocket. She approaches the lock, and opens the gate. You look at her, your mouth wide open.
- “I’ll explain later! Follow me!” She yells.
- Later, you find out that Grace is already a member of the commune, her special skill being charm and manipulation. Her job at Moonlight Ranch is to travel for weeks at a time, stopping at motels and gas stations, trailer parks and rest stops, searching for new recruits. You feel betrayed. You want to leave.
- “Please,” Grace says. “I’m sorry I deceived you. But you must know that as soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew you had something special. I knew you would be a perfect addition to our community. Don’t leave yet. Please. Don’t you at least want to try your improv comedy routine?”
- Shucks. She got you there. How could you leave without doing your routine? Your infamous impression of Jerry Seinfeld that got you into the improv group, and then won you best impressionist at the 2016 Grand Rapids Improvapalooza? The impression that none of your friends and family wanted to hear any more, that when performed at parties now prompted a stern response of “No. Just Stop.” How could you pass up the chance to perform it on a brand new audience?
- “Ok,” you say. “I’ll do it.”
- Three years later, and you’re living the dream at Moonlight Ranch. You have never even lain a finger on a gardening tool. Your only role at the commune has been to spice up parties with your wit and humor while everyone else feeds you. And your Jerry Seinfeld impression? Let’s just say it’s earned you more than Bee Movie ever made at the domestic box office, and has saved you from a lifetime of debt and despair.
I was genuinely worried that you were actually writing a serious ( and quite generic) post about saving money on the first few points but by the time you moved into the van I was laughing uncontrollably until the end.
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All great money saving starts with moving into a van. Glad you enjoyed.
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Great post. I agree with living a simple life & giving up on big capitalism traps. Not sure I could live in a commune with wife & kid, but if I was single & everything’s free…possible. 🙏
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Thanks! Just gotta keep living the simple life in other ways then. ☺️
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