I recently only had $13 in my bank account.

I say recently because, upon looking it up and my eyes going wide with horror, I shoved over $90 from my savings and to prop up my checking account into something that wouldn’t make me hyperventilate.

I’ve never been the best budgeter (my ADHD seriously hinders me keeping track of anything) and I’ve tried apps and journals and day planners. Nothing has completely failed but nothing has really worked either. Making more money certainly helps, but I can feel the shadow of the days when I wasn’t making money. The specter of debt is an ominous one, and too many millennials deal with it on a daily basis.

It seems impossible to imagine that I’d ever be in a place to afford a house. Or travel. Or have a kid (if I decide I want one). Some weeks, it seems I’m barely able to keep the hounds at bay, and there are days when all I want to do is enjoy myself without worrying about the teeth nipping at my heels.

Payday is tomorrow. I’ll be able to breathe a little easier then.


Published by Ren Martinez

Ren is a thirty-something Lost Boy whose personal aesthetic is “suspected of witchcraft by local villagers.” She subscribes to cheerful nihilism, the destruction of the patriarchy, and the belief that glitter makes everything better. She is a Richmond-based writer and performer who has fiction and non-fiction work found in a variety of publications, such as The Mary Sue, RVA Magazine, The Quotable, and Nostrovia Press. She is currently the fiction editor and a regular contributor at Quail Bell Magazine. She is also the co-host of the podcast, This F***ing Guy! Find out more at or read her dumbass tweets on Twitter @itsrenmartinez

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