Welcome to Money Diaries where we are tackling the ever-present taboo that is money. We’re asking real people how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last penny.

This week: “I’m a 29-year-old SEO specialist living in London. After graduating from university, I worked in the corporate sector for a year and a half. However, due to the stressful and unrewarding workload, I took a leap and switched to freelancing, where I managed to earn much more for fewer hours. After four years, for personal reasons, I took another leap and moved to the UK, took a pay cut, and transitioned from freelancing back to a full-time corporate setting. Surprisingly, it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve made. Now I find myself in a healthy, supportive work environment, and most importantly, I’m happy with my job. In terms of finances, I find joy in saving money and sometimes might get a bit too obsessed with it. However, I’ve adopted a more relaxed approach – as long as I’m meeting my monthly saving goal (£600–700), I can dip into my spending pot for whatever I want. My current goal is to buy a place as soon as possible. However, this is proving difficult amid the ongoing cost of living crisis and interest rate hikes, especially on a single income!”

Occupation: SEO specialist
Industry: Sports
Age: 29
Location:
London
Salary: 33,000
Paycheque Amount: 2106
Number of housemates: 5
Pronouns: She/her

Monthly Expenses

Housing costs: I live in a house share and the rent for my en-suite room is £780, all bills included.
Loan payments: I don’t have any loans.
Savings?: £60,000 savings; £1,200 in a stocks and shares ISA account; and two insurance plans with a cash value of at least £30,000 with annual bonus upon maturity, but I won’t be able to take it out until I’m over 35 (these are the financial products I’ve had overseas).
Utilities: Included in my rent
Pension? This is my first job in the UK and my employee’s contribution is 5% while mine is 3%. Also, I have around £7,000 in an overseas pension account.
All other monthly payments: £5 Lebara phone bill. Subscriptions: £0.99 Apple Storage; £6 Spotify.

Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes, I earned my bachelor’s degree in Asia. I was fortunate that my parents covered my tuition fees in full, so I didn’t have to carry any debt after I graduated. I worked very hard in my studies and managed to secure two scholarships (£4,500 in total). I’m very grateful that my parents didn’t require me to pay them back for the tuition fees, so I saved up most of my scholarships.

Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money?
I was raised in an average-income family, and I remember my parents working overtime to save up as much as they could. They rarely took days off and actually enjoyed working more than having time off! I definitely inherited these workaholic traits from them. Both of my parents have always been frugal and savvy with money, which has certainly shaped my attitude towards money. My mum taught me the 50/30/20 rule when I got my first full-time job, and since I was living at home at the time, I didn’t really have many expenses, and I ended up saving more than two-thirds of my salary.

If you have, when did you move out of your parents’/guardians’ house?
I moved out of my parents place at 26, when I moved to the UK.

At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself? Does anyone else cover any aspects of your financial life?
23. I was still living with my parents, but that’s when I started covering all my expenses — rent, food, et cetera. Now, I believe my savings have grown strong enough to act as my financial safety net if I ever lost my source of income. I’d be hesitant to ask my parents for help because I know they’ve already worked so hard to build a worry-free life for me and my brother.

What was your first job and why did you get it?
My first job was a sales assistant role that I landed as a summer gig after finishing secondary school. My mum always encouraged me to pick up summer jobs, so I could stay productive and not waste my time sitting around at home during breaks.

Do you worry about money now?
I was very fortunate that I never had to worry about money growing up because my parents worked very hard to ensure my brother and I could live comfortably. However, I do remember my parents stressing over money and cutting down on expenses by walking to work, packing lunches, buying reduced products, et cetera.

Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income?
No.

If you’d like to submit your own money diary then please do send a bit of information about you and your situation to moneydiary@refinery29.uk. We pay £100 for each published diary. Apologies, but we’re not able to reply to every email.

Day One

7:30 a.m: — Monday kicks off with the anxiety-inducing symphony of my alarm. I’m not a morning person so every early rise triggers a flood of excuses to skip work. Today, I decide to catch a later train so I can have more time to enjoy my potato waffles with ketchup.

8:15 a.m. — I’m required to go to the office twice a week. Train fares aren’t cheap and it takes me an hour to get to work. Considering the fact that trains in this country break down in any weather, I definitely much prefer working from home. Return journey, £15.

9:15 a.m. — I casually tackle the weekend email influx, nursing my free work coffee. Across my desk sits a stressed-out executive from the New York office, emitting vibes that could power a small city. I’m in my concentration bubble, warding off the invisible stress aura.

12:30 p.m. — I always bring food to work unless there’s free lunch provided. Today’s masterpiece is kimchi fried rice with a fried egg and spinach on the side, leftover from last night, paired with a can of Fanta I grabbed from the pantry.

3 p.m. — After chatting with colleagues, I dive back into work, fuelled by my second coffee of the day. Urgency strikes — a familiar rhythm, thanks to someone in the other team’s last-minute shenanigans. I absolutely LOVE this type of spontaneous collaboration! Although an unnecessary wave of panic hits, we’ve managed to get things done on time in the end.

6:30 p.m. — As usual, I’m torn between two worlds: the allure of home-cooked meals and the call of Deliveroo or Uber Eats deals. Today has been a long day for me, so I decide to succumb to the enticing 40% off deals from a local Indonesian/Malaysian place and order a mee goreng with prawn, £14.

11 p.m. — After dinner, a shower and some more TV, I hit the hay with a light heart and an even lighter wallet.

Total: £29

Day Two

9 a.m. — Tuesday rolls in, and I’m on the work-from-home grind today. Commuting and socialising can be energy draining for me sometimes, which is why I never go to the office on consecutive days.

9:15 a.m. — I grab two pieces of toast slathered with marmalade jam while casually scrolling through emails. I’ve always aspired to be one of those early birds who are up by 6 a.m., squeezing in exercise and a shower before the workday. But for someone like me who loathes getting up early, that would only set the tone for a miserable start to the day.

12:30 p.m. — Fast forward to my lunch break and I take a quick trip to the post office to send off a dress I’ve sold on Vinted. While passing by Greggs, I successfully resist the temptation of bakery goods, knowing my work-from-home go-to lunch, kimchi ramen, is waiting for me in my cupboard.

2 p.m. — After lunch, an email reminder nudges me towards the monthly meeting with one of our vendors. This kind of meeting is usually just a dance of words where nothing tangibly progresses. My participation is akin to a chicken attempting to sing — I can’t hide my tone of awkwardness. Alas, the vendor, much like me, seems to be reporting from the void of non-events. Luckily, this symphony of monotony ends after only ten minutes.

3 p.m. — In a moment of existential pondering and a hint of boredom, I find myself wandering through the digital aisles of Holland & Barrett. Confronted with the looming reality of turning 30, I nonchalantly click a bottle of collagen supplements into my virtual cart alongside a hand cream. Because, evidently, supple hands and healthy bones are the clandestine arsenal against the approaching spectre of adulthood, £21.73.

6 p.m. — After wrapping up another day of digital hustle, a sweet surprise pops up — an Uber Eats notification with a £15 off deal. Taking it as a nudge from the universe to embrace the ease of things, I ditch the idea of walking to the local Tesco in the chilly night air. Opting for convenience, I go all in and order Waitrose groceries, £18.30.

6:30 p.m. — As I await the arrival of my Waitrose grocery haul, I decide to make the most of the time by indulging in a spontaneous yoga session, which helps me find a moment of zen amid the impending grocery excitement.

7:30 p.m. — With the groceries finally at my doorstep, I eagerly unpack them and start making today’s dinner: mapo tofu with rice. I portion out a generous amount for tomorrow’s lunch, securing a flavourful-yet-frugal culinary escapade that extends into the next day’s meal. It is a satisfying end to the day.

10 p.m. — Sleep.

Total: £40.03

Day Three

9 a.m. — Wednesday morning hits, bringing in the same old work routine grind.

12 p.m. — In keeping with my frugal-yet-delightful culinary routine, a hearty portion of last night’s mapo tofu makes its encore appearance at lunch.

1 p.m. — The midday break unfolds with a video call to my mum, updating her on the minutiae of my seemingly mundane yet wholesomely predictable life. As I narrate the tales of office monotony and culinary triumphs, her reassuring virtual presence adds a sprinkle of warmth to the routine.

4:30 p.m. — As the clock ticks towards an early departure from the digital grind, I embark on a leisurely stroll with my housemate, exchanging stories and relishing the simple joy of stepping outside before the daylight bids us adieu.

6:30 p.m. — After a pleasant post-work stroll, I dive into the kitchen to whip up a quick-yet-satisfying dinner — rice noodles in a fish broth, paired with my go-to “snowflake gyoza”. For gyoza enthusiasts, this easy-but-impressive pan-frying technique is a game changer.

10:30 p.m. — After dinner, I head for a refreshing shower, capping off the day with a quick call to a friend to solidify plans for the upcoming weekend.

Total: £0

Day Four

8:30 a.m. — Get up, ready and head into work, £9.80.

9:30 a.m. — Today kicks off with a team bonding city hunt in the centre of London, decoding cryptic clues and trekking from Marylebone to who knows where. I always like this kind of quirky work activity as I get to temporarily escape the usual office life. The game’s a blast, especially with my colleagues turning it into a comedy show on the fly.

1 p.m. — Mid hunt, we take a breather at a pub for lunch, all thanks to the company splurging a bit. A city hunt is always better with a side of banter and a pint.

4 p.m. — The game comes to an end and we head back to the office for a pizza and drinks fiesta.

6 p.m. — After wolfing down a pepperoni and a pint, I head home, £5.20.

8 p.m. — Take a quick shower, catch my favourite TV show (All Creatures Great and Small) and dive into bed.

Total: £15

Day Five

9 a.m. — Friday rolls in, I skip breakfast and dive straight to work. I unleash turbo mode on my to-do list as I aim to log off early today. One of my favourite rituals is tuning into podcasts that keep me company throughout the day.

12:30 p.m. — Lunchtime arrives, and I make a bagel with egg, adorned with my absolute favourite Waitrose butter.

4:30 p.m. — Miraculously, I’ve been as productive as I planned to be, so I hit the log-off button at 4:30 p.m.

5 p.m. — The switch flips and I go from my work-from-home cave to full-on party-planner mode. Toss the pyjamas, head to the train station, and voilà, I’m en route to The Ivy at London Bridge for my friend’s birthday meal.

6:30 p.m. — I buy us drinks to start and then we move on to a three-course meal, £55.95.

9:45 p.m. — I hop on the train back home, £8.90 for today’s travel.

11 p.m. — After a shower, I read for a bit before hitting the hay.

Total: £64.85

Day Six

11 a.m. — Saturday! My buddy hits me up with free tickets to Horizon 22, apparently the highest free viewing platform in London. I hop on a train to London Bridge and strut my way to Bank, £5.20 return.

12:30 p.m. — We kick off this adventure with lunch at the Crossed Keys. It’s the poshest Wetherspoon I’ve ever seen. I have scampi with chips and peas, washing it down with a lemonade, which comes to £11.11.

2 p.m. — Now it’s Horizon 22 time. It’s not very packed and we take loads of pictures and catch up while basking in the glory of London’s skyline. It’s almost like we’re in a rom com, but with more skyscrapers and less Hugh Grant.

4 p.m. — As two bubble tea aficionados, our next stop is Jen Tea in Liverpool Street. I snag a classic milk tea with tapioca pearls — a sweet farewell to our day of city conquest, £5.60.

5:30 p.m. — Finally, it’s time to say goodbye. I kick off the epic journey home, taking a leisurely walk from Liverpool Street to London Bridge. Who needs the tube when you can casually stroll around Central London? It’s not just a victory for my feet but a win for my wallet too.

7 p.m. — Get back home from my London adventure. I tap into my inner chef and whip up a quick, tasty tomato pasta with chicken.

8:30 p.m. — After dinner, I grab my ukulele for a mini concert in my room. Strumming away, I pretend to be a rockstar, serenading the night with my tunes. I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for the housemates next door.

11 p.m. — With the melody still lingering, I call it a night. Another day conquered, pasta devoured and bedtime tunes played. I hit the hay, dreaming of future ukulele solos and maybe an encore pasta performance.

Total: £21.91

Day Seven

10 a.m. — Sunday kicks off with a power duo — two slices of toast with Nutella. Today’s grand plan? A festive adventure to a nearby Christmas market with my housemate.

12 p.m. — At the market, we share a Nutella crepe with strawberries, accompanied by a tag team of mulled wine and a German sausage, £9.

2 p.m. — Fuelled by festive delights, we venture into Primark for some winter fashion scouting. Bag myself a pair of corduroy wide-leg trousers — my secret weapon for the perfect blend of comfort and warmth, £12.

3 p.m. — The shopping adventure goes on with visits to TK Maxx, H&M and New Look. Despite the temptations, I resist the urge to splurge and look forward to the sales.

5:30 p.m. — Back home, I cook a hearty veggie soup with garlic bread, £2.

8 p.m. — After a shower, I catch up on YouTube, finishing the day with a cosy bedtime routine. Another Sunday well-spent — Nutella feasts, shopping quests and the promise of future deals on my mind.

Total: £23

The Breakdown

Food & Drink: £115.96
Clothes & Beauty: £33.73
Home & Health: £0
Entertainment: £0
Travel: £44.10
Other: £0

Total: £193.79

Conclusion

“I’d say this is more or less what I spend on a typical week, maybe a bit on the higher side. Trust me, I’m not hitting up The Ivy every week! Keeping this diary has really given me a clearer picture of my spending habits. Not surprisingly, I find myself shelling out the most for food, but most of my social outings revolve around food, and I love it. When I’m not out and about, my weeks tend to be more budget friendly, especially with all the home cooking I do. Right now, I’m content with how I’m budgeting and spending — keeping it frugal and still enjoying life.”

Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?

Money Diary: A Creative Director On £57,000

Money Diary: A Database Assistant On £28,000

Money Diary: A Food Development Manager On 51k