A Week In Los Angeles On A $45,000 Salary

Occupation: Freelance writer, yoga teacher, and art facilitator
Industry: Media, health and wellness, arts education
Age: 29
Location: Los Angeles, CA
Salary: $45,000
Assets: $250 (savings).
Debt: $10,000
Paycheck Amount (2x/month): $1,600
Pronouns: She/her

Monthly Expenses

Housing Costs: $1,200 for rent and utilities (I have one roommate).
Loan Repayments: $330 (credit card bills).
Health Insurance: $150
Spotify: $12
Bluedot Subscription: $25 (AI tool).
Google Domain Subscription: $12
Medication: $30 (quarterly).

Annual Expenses

New York Mag subscription:  $35

Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
My parents are both educators so obtaining my bachelor’s degree was a non-negotiable (there wasn’t an expectation to obtain a master’s degree, but I can say I’ve learned more from experiences and failures than university).

Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
I wasn’t educated about finances other than to save everything. We lived far below our means and our household was really rigid about money, mostly because of one parent’s perspective around scarcity and abundance after an unexpected death. It’s taken years to learn how to budget and not give in to temptation around things I want, especially since at 25 I was making $100,000 more a year than I do now. That’s been the hardest switch. (There’s an essay in me about the consequence of obtaining a higher salary before your frontal lobe is fully developed. Ha.)

What was your first job and why did you get it?
My first job was at a franchise smoothie shop when I was 16. I got it to have extra money that I could spend how I wanted.

Did you worry about money growing up?
Yes. I worried that there was never enough or that having more or wanting more was bad. I have unlearned that messaging… Maybe.

Do you worry about money now?
Yes. I worry that I won’t make enough to live the life I want without being constantly burned out.

At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
21. I have a minuscule safety net. (More like a rainy day fund.)

Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
No.

8 a.m. — I wake up at my friend A.’s place. Last night we were at the bar she works at, along with her friend M. The fires took a toll on me energetically and I was feeling very prickly — I teach yoga during the week and holding space for others grieving was a lot — so I decided that even though the bar wasn’t my scene, I desperately needed to be around others and not checking my phone. A. gave us muddled strawberry tequila shots, and I realized that I don’t respond to the joyous mentality of drinking like I did in my early 20s. It just feels like… escapism? M. and I ended up heading out at about 11 p.m. — we went back to MDR where A. lives to have a little “anxiety sleepover”. Once A. got home, we spent a couple hours watching SNL, which always hits the spot. Satire is my new version of energetic relief. All three of us drifted off to sleep shortly afterward.

10 a.m. — I am famished — though the usual overwhelming anxiety that any amount of alcohol brings me is high. We end up at a breakfast spot that M. and A. love for a specific quiche it serves. I order a crispy soft egg and prosciutto plus an orange juice. The food did not miss, but I did miss out on the taste of fresh squeezed orange juice (I know, it’s January!). This starts a conversation at the table about the psychology around acquired taste in a society that can view preference as an extension of classism. This is why me and A. are friends. Our brains work the same way — we can deep dive into the most minute things to better understand ourselves and the world. We split the bill three ways. $33

12 p.m. — As I’m leaving MDR, my check engine light comes on. I’m not surprised since I sensed it acting finicky recently. I have a remastered vintage car and while she is beautiful and in great shape (and I treat her well) the bottleneck anxiety starts to rise. What *exactly* does a service engine light mean? I check ChatGPT (no shame) and am met with a slew of answers, including advice to take it to a nearby auto shop for a scan ASAP. I quickly found an auto parts store to have it checked out. Turns out one of one of my cylinders is out — aka not the most awful expense or car problem in the world. I pay for the parts and make an appointment with the mechanic for the next day. $65

2 p.m. — I remember I also need to go to the grocery store. Instead, I head to a coffee shop. I have a deadline tomorrow and while I have absolutely no energy, I need to get it done. I’m a freelance writer who’s actively trying to pivot into strategy, since teaching yoga and art gigs absolutely do NOT pay the bills. I need protein, so I order a soft-boiled squash rice bowl. I grimace, knowing I could make a couple of these for half the price but I give myself grace and instead, make a compromise with myself — I subtract my meal from my weekly “bookend” grocery budget (staples that I can rely on to make various meals). This makes me feel better. $20

7 p.m. — After a yin yoga class, I head to Trader Joe’s and pick up essentials for the week. I am able to cover everything I need for my bookend meals within my new budget. $55

9 a.m. — I show up to my local mechanic’s shop to learn that I need more work done than I had thought. Ugh. I quickly pick up additional spark plugs and ignition coils and leave my car for a half day of work. $33

10 a.m. — I head to a local coffee shop to get started for the day. I ate an apple for breakfast but my energy is still low. I have a lot of guilt for working at a coffee shop without purchasing something. It just feels wrong for the business (and maybe my karma?). I purchase a half-caf latte and avocado toast with egg. That should keep me going until early afternoon. $16

2 p.m. — My car is finally finished so I head over to pick it up. We discussed the price beforehand so I’m not shocked about what I pay. I found my mechanic after a really shitty tire incident and we built a great relationship from it. He’s always fair in pricing and educates me throughout the process. I was raised to hold my own, but I simply cannot know everything. I can confidently say that I trust him. $200

7 p.m. — My roommate cooks dinner for us. As we sit down to eat in the communal kitchen (a large, open space with two of everything: stove, table, fridge, oven), I sink in from the day. I don’t realize I’m hungry until I start to eat the vegan Mexican spread she’s prepared. I was reluctant to live with a roommate — especially in a co-living space — but maybe it’s exactly what I need. I’m “prepping” myself for the responsibility and shared cadence necessary to build a healthy romantic partnership, so this is a good first step.

7 a.m. — I am trying to get back into my daily runs. Today is a walk because that’s all I can manage, but it does the trick. Unfortunately, that sneaky feeling that I “need” to walk to a coffee shop on my way back is pretty loud. I stuff it back down and continue home. Breaking habits is hard. I remind myself that awareness is the first step — personal responsibility next — and that I’m making the right decision, even if it absolutely doesn’t feel that way.

1:30 p.m. — I spent the first couple hours of my day pitching people, working on edits, and at an intense yoga class. I can’t decide if I want to befriend the teacher or if it’s setting me up for a weird power dynamic where being in the same industry centered around the mind-body connection means we should explore our bodies through sex. I laugh at my pessimism over something that could be pleasurable, and decide it’s something I can mentally explore later. I walk to Trader Joe’s after class and pick up a green juice and chicken wrap. I find a spot that overlooks the downtown part of my neighborhood and enjoy my food. I head back to the bookstore down the street to work for the rest of the afternoon. $10

7 p.m. — I am craving a movie and a meal but fight the urge and head home where I begin to wind down and make my favorite dinner: lentil soup with bone broth and greens. (Favorite as in: It’s filling and easy.) My roommate gets home soon after and we discuss ongoing fire updates and what to do in case we need support. I invite her to both of the yoga classes I’m teaching tomorrow, but feel a bit off-kilter about the draining feeling I have every time we engage in conversation. If I don’t interject and bring us back to topic, I end up in her stream of consciousness and I feel like a participant who can’t escape. While I would rather be productive and empathetic, I instead want to separate from the oversharing that is probably better suited to a therapist than someone who isn’t consistently emotionally available (me). I remind myself that people are our mirrors and that she represents past versions of me who needed external support. That’s probably why I’m so overwhelmed by it, I’m reminded.

9 a.m. — I pick up my ADHD medication and head to a coffee shop to work. I really don’t feel like my medication works anymore but I’m scared to try something new, particularly a stimulant which could trigger an addictive response. I made a note to contact my insurance about getting a new psych. I haven’t seen mine in two years since I was first prescribed my medication — at the time, I needed his credentials and he needed my money. Now I want a doctor who will listen to me and my challenges and respond with empathy, instead of simply upping the mg on my medication. 

10 a.m. — There’s a man outside of my regular coffee shop who is unwell. As I round the corner, I see police officers charging up with guns drawn. I’m not scared, but I do follow them. My immediate response is to begin recording their interaction with him. I’m later told the police were called because the man also had a gun and was pointing it at folks. I gulp down what feels like misaligned judgment mixed with anger and guilt. I head into the now-reopened coffee shop and sit next to a regular whom I start discussing the situation with — I need to process what happened with someone who looks like me. An hour in, we shift to talking about his multiple businesses. I feel this ping in my stomach to pitch myself for brand strategy work. I’m nervous but I do it! I feel good about the potential of working with him. Since I’m actively trying to pivot into strategy work, this feels like a huge step forward. We exchange phone numbers for a regroup and I grab two of my favorite Sprouted Heart protein bars for lunch from the coffee shop before heading outside. $10

2 p.m. — The owner of the studio I teach at had asked me to cover her yoga class — two classes in one day while the city is in a state of panic is exhausting. I want to help, but I don’t know if emotional facilitation is the best way for me to respond. I tell myself to take the class because it’s extra money, and then feel guilty about my intentions. I shove that feeling down. I make a note to look up hands-on volunteer opportunities when I get home. Since my schedule suddenly changed, I grab dinner at Trader Joe’s and sit outside to eat and go over my sequence between classes. After the intellectually stimulating business conversation earlier, I feel a familiar heaviness that I’m outgrowing my current lifestyle. I’m ready to jump back into the corporate world. $10

10 a.m. — Today is focused on life admin, job applications, and pitches, so I am slightly more relaxed. In response to the fires, a wellness studio near me is offering complimentary salt respiratory sessions and I decided to take advantage. I pick up a couple of comp cards to share with professional connections. There’s been such an outpouring of generosity in LA and sharing that generosity with others feels really nice. This reminds me that last night I signed up to distribute masks around my neighborhood in the afternoon.

12 p.m. — I’m not in my usual neighborhood, so I decide to have lunch via a Whole Foods hot bar. It’s been a couple of days since I had a hot meal and my body can tell. It immediately relaxes as I digest and I feel a wave of energy emerge that never seems to come from grab-n-go meals or protein bars. A conversation with an old acupuncturist comes up in my mind and I laugh about my past skepticism about the body’s response to hot foods. I also pick up a large green juice for the fridge and some snacks that are leaving Whole Foods (and majorly discounted). $20

7 p.m. — I’m back at home, actively applying to jobs and sending pitches, when I notice I haven’t eaten. My roommate offers to make dinner for us and I agree, though I’ve noticed we have completely different food preferences. But, beggars can’t be choosers, right? I try to have light conversation while still thinking about the job application I’m working on, but for whatever reason, the conversation moves into a weird territory about why I should drop my goals and get my 500-hour yoga certification. One of her goals since moving to LA is to become a certified yoga teacher, so I know she is projecting — but I’m still annoyed. I politely try to explain that I’ve spent most of my 20s paying for courses and certifications with no clear direction, but it doesn’t land. I share that I want to finish my application before going to bed and separate from the conversation. I pop on Trevor Noah’s podcast, What Now? and immediately feel better.

10 a.m. — Today is weird for me schedule-wise because I am working a gig this weekend and need to prep. Remember how I said I took a lot of courses and didn’t do much with them? In 2022 I got certified as an intimacy coordinator for TV and film. I occasionally get asked to do a job and since I (surprise!) need the money, I say yes. This weekend we’re out in Palm Springs — away from the fires — and I need to pick up a garment for one nude scene. I head up to North Hollywood and remind myself that this scatterbrained workload is a consequence of my actions, and also temporary. I grab what I need and head back to my apartment. $33.00 (expensed)

1 p.m. — I head out to the Eastside, where I have an art gig that afternoon. Today is a portfolio class for character design students. The instructor has an intense energy and at first, I was overwhelmed by the amount of pressure he puts on these teenagers. Now, I have a different perspective. It’s actually inspired me to use my time there as an advocate for the young women in the class. I want them to believe in their voice and opinions, especially when it contrasts the group. (Something I started working on much, much later in life.) I find a nearby Starbucks, order a tea and get online. I work through some pitches, apply to another writing job, and catch up on reading articles. I’ve found reading is the best hack for improving my writing, so I try to consume other writers’ work daily. It also helps me stay somewhat informed. As I’m leaving, I notice that this particular Starbucks has really high ceilings painted a beautiful sage green, featuring round south-facing windows. My favorite. I love the feeling of awe, the contrast of being small but also spread out. Sometimes, it really is the little things. I have a protein bar I bought yesterday in my car, so I eat half on my way to the school, and save the other half for my three-hour gig. $3

8 p.m. — Knowing I’ll be out of town for the weekend, I grab groceries for the following week on my way home. I am experimenting with working from the co-living office next week, which means no lunch budget, and instead, stocking up on various items I can make meals for the week with. I somehow end up under budget — score! I grab a couple of bags of greens, snacks, chicken, tuna, fruit, bone broth, soups, and a salmon snack for my parents’ dog, B., who I get to see for the first time in a couple of months. It’s a relationship built on playfulness and reverence… And it’s nice to be someone’s number one — even if it’s a dog. $85

10 a.m. — I have an early morning art gig on the Eastside, so I eat some eggs with greens and fruit prior to leaving my home. I am donating my tips to a local organization that supports teenage girls affected by the fire, which I am happy to be facilitating, but I have a hard time engaging with anyone when I arrive. It seems like everyone is either in an anxious, panicked state, or not listening and simply waiting to share whatever other challenges they’re navigating. I’m not really in the mood to engage, but at least the artists seem very pleased with my output. Afterward, I head to a local shop to quickly grab a bag for a couple of products I’m dropping off next week, alongside the respiratory cards. $2

3 p.m. — My friend M. and I meet up for lunch after my gig. We met at a mutual friend’s holiday party and we hit it off. M. is both driven and down to live life, and has such an interesting background that matches my love for culture. I’ve been craving this type of friendship for a while. I am very much myself around him, which includes laughing to the point of cackling and not editing my opinions about, well, anything. I ask to split the bill, but he requests to pay for both of us. I’m not going to ask twice.

7 p.m. — I asked to be put in a hotel prior to shoot day, since we have a 5 a.m. call time in Palm Springs. I gas my car up, pack up some snacks from my grocery haul yesterday, and head out to my parents’ place. Their home is on the way to the hotel and I need the change of pace before being on set all day tomorrow. This week has exhausted me, but I believe it is preparing me for something bigger. I can feel it. I quickly soak up some cuddles with B., make myself a to-go tea, grab the weighted blanket I keep at their house, and head to the hotel and right into bed. $40