I am very privileged to say that I have been given great opportunities in life, and that I’m in a good spot to hopefully find a job after college.
That said, in my quest to find a living space for the foreseeable future I’ve noticed a common theme: living is expensive!
I was looking for spots to rent in the little town of [name withheld in case future employer reads this article] and was surprised to find out some of the cheapest places to rent were around $1,800 a month, or as my mother so eloquently put it, “about as much as my mortgage.”
For that price, one place has pretty much everything I need, and I wouldn’t require extra time or money to furnish it, put in wifi or get appliances. The places that are unfurnished would cost about $1,200 a month, and I would still need to make a couple trips to IKEA.
There are, of course, places in nearby towns that run for much cheaper, about $530 a month, but they have about as much space as a walk-in closet. My junior year single dorm room on North Avenue had more space than some of these apartments. And those are just my complaints on housing.
I don’t have a car, for reasons that would require their own separate tirade, but long story short, my family wasn’t listed in the wills of John D. Rockefeller or J.P. Morgan.
Being sans-vehicle has created a problem for future (hopefully) employed me, especially if he wants to, you know, not be trapped in his house all day.
I don’t need a fancy Cadillac or a gaudy Mercedes, just give me a four-wheel drive for when the snow hits, reasonable gas mileage and an automatic transmission. I can make relatively cheap monthly payments on a used SUV, or at least until it needs something: oil change, tire change, brake check, transmission, check engine light, etc.
And don’t forget about the insurance! The insurance? You know, the thing that’s only helpful when you don’t need it and completely screws you if you do need it. Insurance!
Groceries, of course, are a necessity, after all, what’s the point of living if I can’t eat food? I may also need shampoo and deodorant, or I could look and smell like a bum; that’d save me some money. Sure, I’d never be able to find a date, but I really haven’t had much luck there anyway. So I guess there’s no harm done.
Ah, but I probably need some medication though, for days like today when, as of writing this, I’m lying in bed with a headache, cough and what I hope is a mild fever, but I’m not betting the farm on it.
Cold medicine these days can get pretty pricey, especially if you get the good stuff (mmm, NyQuil). They’ll ask for your driver’s license at checkout (because somehow showing my government I.D. will guarantee I won’t turn this cough syrup into meth), and then they’ll ask you for the $15, or sometimes $30, for that sweet relief that’ll wear off in an hour.
So let’s see, $1,800 for rent, about $150 for groceries toiletries and meds, a few hundred for the car, a few hundred more for the car insurance and the final cost comes out to: screw it, I’m moving back with my parents.
