what to do when you're broke (read: a writer)

and so, it has been decided (in my head at least; no important formal announcement was ever made, mainly because I am not a formal important person): after college, I will pursue my dream of becoming a writer (I will freelance, work on my fiction, the works) and running this baby that my friend Alex and I started a few months ago. Basically, I will be poor (at least at first). Having grown up with a father that runs a very successful business (I know, I reek of privilege. I'm gross. Sorry), this is really scary. So, because I am a planner, this is my plan to not end up starved and homeless.

{1} move in with my boyfriend. This is not really because I want to save on rent (although that is a nice perk, I must say), since we've been talking about this for a good two years now, and we did technically live together at one point (we're a way better team together than apart). But you know.

{2} become a crazy coupon lady to save on groceries. I am actually not quite sure how this works, but I'm sure a friend or two must know.

{3} don't eat out. Don't order in. Only very, very rarely. I think I am good about this already. Also, stop being a lazy bitch and cook. In other words, stop buying pre-made meals or eating oatmeal with a banana and soy milk and peanut butter for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Not so much because the latter is expensive, but because that constitutes an incredibly unbalanced diet, and who wants to be poor, starved, and unhealthy?

{4} constantly remind my dad that I am his favorite child. Just kidding. Sort of.

{5} learn how to paint my own nails. And in that same vein, forego those glorious ten minute massages at nail spas (sorry, I am an anxious person and I cannot help myself, I swear) and make Mike fix my back. He's strong; I'm sure he's got it.

{6} thrift. But not too much. Turns out it adds up. Who knew?

{7} stop buying people random shit because I am a good soul and do it out of the kindness of my heart.

{8} make peace with the fact that Simba will be my only therapist for years to come because I am too poor for a therapist.

{9} search high and low for freelancing jobs and convince editors and publishers to hire my sorry ass.

{10} get a temporary job at a writer's center or tutoring kids in writing or at a book publisher or writing for a nonprofit or translating (this is when living in different countries growing up comes in handy, I see) until I have enough to get me on my feet. Because eff it, I will be a writer if it's the last thing I do (also, I have to mention that there are plenty of crappy writers that made it, so I can too. Which by no means disqualifies me as a "crappy writer," because I may very well be just that).

so there you go. I'm gonna make it. Screw you, odds.