Millenials broadly fall into two camps: those who have resigned themselves to never owning a home and instead enjoy what remains of our fleeting youth and time on Earth, and those who have decided to cut out everything that brings them joy to get themselves on the property ladder.We’re all used to features where these lost young people explain how they’ve managed to save money by batch cooking, quitting the pub and feeling guilty for spending £1.20 on a tin of tuna. Personally, I am overwhelmed with sadness every time I read one of these money diaries – not because I will never own my own home, but because for a second I imagine what it would be like to live like these joyless losers all for the sake of owning 32 percent of an ugly new build in Colchester.
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With this in mind, I set about putting myself in the shoes of these thrifty kids by living like one for a week. Would I save £3,000 by cutting out coffee? Or would I lose all my friends by virtue of being a cheap prick?By virtue of being a freelance writer who doesn’t even earn enough to pay tax, there is more chance of me marrying into the royal family than owning a home, but through careful budgeting and a lifelong fear of debt instilled by my accountant dad, I still manage to live a reasonably happy life in London without forcing myself to eat wet sandwiches for lunch every day. But could I be even better (debatable) with my money?
DAY ONE
I decide to use my leftover budget to buy a limited edition Phantom Frappuccino from Starbucks (£3.20) because it’s Halloween. Unfortunately, it turns out to be one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever ingested, but there is no time to regret. It’s nearly dinner time, and I have to recreate one of the most cursed melanin-deficient meals I have ever seen: frozen cod, a single slice of lemon, plain couscous and mug-boiled carrots. Mmmmm.
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Side note: aside from how disgusting this meal is, it’s also incredibly unsustainable and not particularly cheap – what’s the point of owning a house if we’ll be living on a barren planet with nothing left to eat on it? Buying four packs of frozen cod for £3.40 is bad praxis unless you are a struggling adult with a family to feed!To no-one’s surprise, this tastes like shit. I douse it in hot sauce and go out drinking to forget about the assault on my tastebuds.Cost: £28.36
DAY TWO
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DAY THREE
DAY FOUR
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Cost: £5.60I generally have pretty low monthly travel costs due to the fact that I don’t have to commute to work. If I do have to go somewhere, I try to walk or take the bus. But a spanner has been thrown into the works of my usual low-cost, low-calorie, low-movement lifestyle: I am doing shifts in an office this week like the rest of you disgusting serfs.Unused to the ungodly hour that is known as 7AM, I accidentally press snooze and wake up late. My proposed two-bus route from south to east London is off the table. I spend £2.90 on the overground and £2.95 on a coffee.Feeling sorry for myself simply because I’ve had to go into work on a Monday (do you hate me yet?), I buy myself a wrap from the fancy deli (£5.50) for lunch. For the sake of posterity and to counter my OUTRAGEOUS spending, I take two buses home.£1.50 and a mere 83 minutes later, I’m home and once again faced with the pasta bake. I can’t lie – it was nice to come home to dinner I’d already cooked so I could proceed to immediately get stoned to five B2B episodes of Brooklyn 99 instead. I cancelled my Netflix subscription, but no-one said I couldn’t stream illegally.Cost: £12.85
DAY FIVE
DAY SIX
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I freeze the rest of the pasta bake because I can’t bear to look at it any more, and spend the evening signing up to an online survey service that promises me cash in exchange for uploading my grocery receipts, wasting hours of my life in pointless drudgery and more of my valuable data.Cost: £12.30 + high chance of falling victim to a future data breachWoke up feeling good because today is my last day of doing this shit, and I decide to try extra hard to play by the rules. I skip my coffee on the way to work and make one for free when I get to the office.What a boring week. Honestly, it’s been a revelation having food in the house which I then make and eat instead of buying overpriced sandwiches, but there are only so many times I can eat the same batch-cooked meal without wanting to throw up on it.Ultimately, this is no way to live. No matter how thrifty I am, I will never be able to buy a house in London. I’ve made my peace with it! If the choice is between renting forever and enjoying your one life v.s. part-owning a home while feeling guilty for buying 70p packets of crisps, I know which one I’m choosing.My total weekly spend came to £74.24, which was actually considerably higher than the previous week (£50.40) when I was living my life normally, leading me to conclude that the main hindrance to saving money is… going to work. In conclusion: luxury communism now!Total: £74.24@niluthedamaja
DAY SEVEN
The other freelancer asks if I want to get lunch – I say yes because it is more important to make friends than save £2, IMO! I have a jacket potato with cheese and beans, and a can of coke (£5.70). It ends up being an intense day at work, and by the time I get my two buses home I’m so exhausted I can’t face anything except chucking chicken nuggets in the oven for dinner.For the sake of argument, however, I would like to stress that it’s possible to eat well on a budget without resorting to prison food. My own personal budget-friendly recipe is spaghetti with garlic, black pepper, olive oil, lemon juice, parmesan and basil from my plant. If you’re feeling fancy you can add cherry tomatoes. Delicious!Cost: £8.70