Money Diary: A TV Producer On £300/d Going Through A Breakup

By Anonymous

Welcome to Money Diaries, where we’re tackling what might be the last taboo facing modern working women: money. We’re asking a cross-section of women how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last penny.

This week: “I’m a 31-year-old freelance producer in the TV industry. Before going freelance, not a day went by where I didn’t worry about money. I was useless at saving and would regularly max out both of my credit cards. Having fun and going out were significantly more important than saving! Going freelance five years ago meant gaining a completely new approach to money. Earning a (significant) day rate has allowed me to pay off all my credit cards (we’re talking £15k+ worth of debt), save for rainy days when freelance gigs dry up as well as be able to spend guilt-free.

I’ve very recently broken up with my boyfriend of eight years and have moved out of the house I shared with him as he owns it with his brother. I’m currently living in my sister’s flat in London while she’s spending lockdown with her husband’s family in Norfolk. The UK is in full lockdown when I track this diary.”

Industry: TV production
Age: 31
Location: London
Salary: £300 a day. This changes annually dependent on how many days I work.
Paycheque amount: Usually £3,000 if I’ve had a good month of solid work.
Number of housemates: Zero right now. Three weeks ago it was boyfriend plus a dog.

Monthly Expenses

Housing costs: Currently £0, however when I was living with my ex-boyfriend, I paid £850 into his bank account and this covered my rent to him, council tax and the water bill.
Loan payments: Student loan repayment which comes out annually with my tax return.
Utilities: £0 right now.
Transportation: I’ve been working from home for almost a year now so saving a ton on transport! As we’re in lockdown, I’m also not getting Ubers anywhere as there’s nowhere to go.
Phone bill: £19
Savings? £17k in an ISA. Majority of this has been saved up in 2020 as I had regular income but nowhere to go due to lockdown.
Other: I try and help my mum out. During COVID I’ve been sending food shops to her house. This will be approximately £50.

Day One

7am: Alarm goes off but I’ve already been lying awake for an hour. I’ve recently come out of an eight-year relationship and sleeping is somewhat of a challenge. I usually find myself awake between the hours of 1am and 4am and again at 6am. The latter is the habitual time I’d wake up to walk the dog, who is no longer in my life as I felt my ex-boyfriend needed the companionship more.

9am: I log on to the first Zoom of the day but it’s a regular daily check-up so I’m on mute, video off, doing things in the background. I’m choosing to blend up an orange and ginger juice while the company update is going on. How good is WFH?!

11.56am: Starving. Can’t possibly wait another minute to eat lunch. There’s no food in my sister’s flat, where I’ve been living alone since the breakup three days ago. I walk to the high street and pick myself up a pesto and mozzarella ciabatta sandwich from Gail’s. As the server asks if I’d like anything to drink, it’s only polite that I order an oat cappuccino. £7.85

3pm: Colleagues in my Zoom call are questioning my new background. I have to have the awkward conversation of telling people about the breakup and the temporary move to my sister’s. I wonder how many people I’ll have to tell vs how many will find out from him vs how many will just see me pop up on Tinder one day.

4.45pm: Is it too early to eat dinner? I’m famished but I wouldn’t normally eat dinner this early when I lived with the ex, he had a strict 6.30pm dinnertime. I notice how nice it feels to be able to live by my own rules. There’s still no food in the flat so I think about going to Tesco for a proper food shop but before I’ve finished compiling my shopping list, the chicken and chip wrap I ordered on Deliveroo while writing said shopping list arrives. Efficient and delicious. Food shop will have to wait until another day. £16 including driver tip.

9pm: I realise I’ve spent the whole evening on my phone, between scrolling through Instagram and messaging on WhatsApp. Messages from friends have gone from “The IBS is really blowing up tonight” and “Dave says I wank too much” to messages of worry for me and my new single status. Everyone who knows about the breakup is checking in on me, I’m so grateful for how good the people in my life are.

10pm: I’m in bed, can’t get to sleep. Friends is on in the background to lull me to sleep but I’m tormented thinking about the heart I broke a few days ago. I refer to the list on my Notes app labelled “Reasons you left him” to reassure me of my decision. Number one on the list says “controlling, gaslighting behaviour”. I drift off, crying myself to sleep.

Total: £23.85

Day Two

8am: Today is the third day in a row that I’ve gotten up and made myself a juice like the green goddess that I always imagine myself to be. There’re two versions of me in the morning and I never know which I’ll get. There’s the one who wakes up so depressed that she regularly doesn’t log onto calls, struggles to have the energy to shower and don’t even get her started on doing any exercise. Then there’s the other version, this one is a joy to be. I wake up, spend 25 minutes making my orange and ginger juice, drink the juice in 30 seconds flat and then spend another 25 minutes hand-washing every single bit of the juicer. Then I log onto an Instagram live exercise class and sweat for 45 minutes. This version of me finds all of this an absolute hoot!

11.15am: I’m waiting for my hormone doctor to call me but she is running late. I have a condition called primary ovarian insufficiency which means I have to live my whole life on hormone replacement therapy (HRT). I see a private doctor alongside my NHS one because the NHS can’t afford to do the detailed tests and prescribe the bio-natural hormones that the private doctors do. It’s something I’ve lived with for 16 years now and I’m always nervous about talking to doctors about new hormones because the side effects in the past have included severe depression, four-stone weight gain, numbness, migraines and stroke-like symptoms. The doctor finally joins the call and between telling her I haven’t had a period for three months and her noticing that I’m much chirpier than usual, we figure out that I’ve grown intolerant to my current hormones so she wants me to try out a new bio-natural oestrogen tablet. Appointment: £200 for 15 minute call (this really hurts), £160 for a blood test (this also hurts) and £75 for the new prescription (God bless the NHS prescription price).

12.30pm: It’s a whole 30 minutes past my lunchtime. I still don’t have food in the flat and I vow to go food shopping as soon as my last Zoom meeting of the day is over. For now, I succumb to the virtues of Deliveroo — £16 later, I may have a poke bowl in my hands but I feel like I’ve been robbed blind. I knew I shouldn’t have said yes to extra guac and miso aubergine. £14 poke bowl plus £2 tip.

5.30pm: It’s been an intense day of meetings and I can’t bring myself to queue outside Tesco for food. I decide as this is the last day of ordering in, I should go all out. Margherita pizza, a side of bruschetta and parmigiana. This is excessive even for me. £26

7pm: I’ve just come off a call with my dad where I spent 50 minutes consoling him about my relationship ending. My dad’s in bits. He questions if my infertility was the reason behind the breakup. Oh, Dad.

11pm: I lie in bed wide awake thinking about the heart I broke. I look back at my list of reasons to leave him — number two: “He wasn’t someone I was willing to experience the inevitable heartbreak of failed IVF with” — and I think back to all the times he didn’t look after me when I was unwell. I wonder how long it will take to not have him as my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night.

1am: I wake up haunted by the thought of the breakup being just a dream. I’m comforted when I come to my senses and realise I’m in my sister’s flat. I can hear the downstairs neighbour’s telly and I’m subtly reminded that I’m not alone.

Total: £477

Day Three

7am: My alarm is going off but I’ve been awake since 3am. Deep down I know breaking up was the right decision to make, I just wish my brain would give me a rest and let me sleep.

8.30am: As I’m making my daily juice (I’m still waking up as the energetic me, which doesn’t go unnoticed) I realise how much lighter and freer I feel. Even though we’re in a national lockdown, even though I haven’t seen or hugged another human being in days, even though I’m living out of a suitcase, having finally chosen to walk away from my eight-year relationship, I feel like a caged bird set free.

12pm: Uh oh. I still haven’t done the food shop and I’m in back-to-back Zoom calls all day. I guess my only option for feeding oneself is a Deliveroo. I must be their best customer by this point. Lebanese wrap £12.

4.30pm: I head out to Tesco with a shopping list in my hand, ready to be the responsible, home cook that my grandma always hoped I’d become. To my surprise, there’s no queue. Success. I walk out with fully planned meals for the next few days, a cheeky bottle of red, a cheeky bottle of white in case I don’t fancy red, and all the ingredients for a negroni in case I want to live a little. Anything that can be frozen, like fish and bread, goes straight into the freezer, because nothing upsets me more than food going off in the fridge. £75

6pm: I make salmon, sweet potato wedges and collard greens for dinner and I make a double portion so that I have leftovers for tomorrow. This NEVER happened when I lived with the ex. I’m already excited about how efficient my new food shopping life has become. However, as I’m plating up the salmon, I’m fighting back tears as I know there would usually be a dog at my feet, patiently waiting to get the salmon skins.

8pm: I notice that the ex has started leaving only certain mutual WhatsApp groups. Why not all of them, I wonder? What is the digital etiquette when a couple breaks up but has so many shared friends? I decide to leave the remaining ones that he hasn’t already.

11pm: Wide awake in bed, thinking about the heart I broke a few days ago. I look back at my list of reasons to leave him. Number three: “selfish, never put you first.”

Total: £87

Day Four

8.20am: I’ve slept in for the first time in years. I wake up to a text on my phone from my ex, asking if I can come and fully move out. He’s struggling to begin to move on with my things still everywhere. I’m cut up, thinking how much I’ve turned his world upside down. I wish this breakup was even slightly mutual. I have a choice to make this morning: cry in bed or treat myself to a fancy coffee and a walk. I, unwillingly, end up doing both. Oat cappuccino for myself, £3.55, and a white Americano for the homeless man outside the coffee shop, £3.10.

12pm: It’s a quiet work day with no meetings so I arrange to meet a friend for a walk in the park. Meeting a human being in real life calls for my best leggings and hoodie, however it’s not fancy enough to warrant a bra. We grab a coffee for our walk. As we walk side by side, she at seven months pregnant and me newly single, I think about how we couldn’t be in more different places in our lives. My friend speaks about all the wonderful ways her husband is looking after her during the pregnancy and I’m once again reminded that I made the right decision to break up with a man who did nothing for me. £0 (my friend insisted on paying for the coffees).

2pm: I have yesterday’s leftovers for lunch. It’s still a really quiet day at work so I take myself on another walk. I wish I hadn’t because I run into my personal trainer who I shared with the ex. I have to have the awkward conversation where I tell yet another person about the breakup and then that person feels more awkward than I do because they don’t know what to say. What then happens is they ask who got custody of the dog and then they feel even more awkward when I tell them it wasn’t me. Awkwardness on both parts, we both wish we hadn’t stopped for a chat. AWKWARD.

5pm: Dinner is a tofu stir fry which I get to halve for tomorrow’s lunch. By this point I feel like I’m MAKING money with all the leftovers.

9pm: My evenings are divided between scrolling through Instagram, FaceTiming friends and reading. I haven’t had the attention span for any telly during much of COVID but luckily I’ve found escapism in books.

11pm: I lie awake thinking about the heart I broke a few days ago. I refer to my trusted list of reasons I broke up with him: “substance abuse.” When I break down and cry, I realise I’m not crying for myself but for him. I’m sad that he’s all alone and has lost the best thing in his life. I’m aware this may sound big headed but I know it’s a fact. I’m comforted by all the people I have in my life and I’m sad that he doesn’t have the same.

Total: £6.65

Day Five

7am: Before I can register where I’ve woken up, there’s fear inside me that the breakup was a dream. I breathe a sigh of relief when I come to my senses.

9am: This is the first weekend as a single woman. I haven’t spent a Saturday alone in years. What to do? There are no daily routines determined by my work schedule. I no longer have a dog to walk. I don’t have a boyfriend to make breakfast with. I head out to get the FT Weekend and a coffee. £7.35

12pm: I arrange for a man with a van to help me move out tomorrow. He asks how much stuff will I have with me which makes me pause for thought. Before this moment, I hadn’t thought about how we’d split our joint belongings — our sofa, bed, individual plates and cups we bought along the years, to name a few. I decide I’d rather walk away with nothing because the only thing I’m certain of is that I don’t want to leave my ex’s house looking like an empty shell. Man and van £65.

4pm: Gosh weekends as a single person in lockdown are bizarre. What do people usually do? I’m basically walking around the flat looking for things to snack on. I realise that days alone just pass. Before I know it, it’s 4pm and I’ve spent the whole day alone with my thoughts. I see my favourite book-fluencer has posted two new book recommendations so I order them straightaway. £24

5pm: I’ve FaceTimed with my two best friends. I come off the call feeling elated. I think the reason why women tend to come off stronger out of relationships is solely down to the support of their girlfriends.

9pm: I’m nervous about moving out tomorrow. However I look at my hands and for the first time in years, my nails aren’t bitten and my cuticles aren’t bleeding. It’s funny how the body finds ways to tell you you’re okay.

2am: I’m still awake, thinking about the heart I broke a few days ago. Next on my list is “feeling claustrophobic”.

Total: £96.35

Day Six

7am: I wake with a knot in my stomach; today is moving day.

9.30am: I am exiting the train and my stomach is doing somersaults. I’m so nervous about seeing my ex for the first time since the breakup. As I ring the doorbell (letting myself in with my set of keys no longer feels right), I hear our dog bark and I break down in tears. Boxing up my belongings doesn’t end up being as emotional as I imagined. I get through it okay. £2.40 TfL journey.

11am: Saying goodbye was an emotional battering. We were a movie cliche, hugging and crying in the street next to a van full of labelled boxes. “Don’t be a stranger” were the final words he said to me before I got in my Uber.

11.15am: I’m sobbing uncontrollably into my face mask in the Uber. Everything about this situation is painful, from the heartbreak of moving out to sitting in the back of a taxi unable to breathe through a sodden face mask. The hardest part is over, I think to myself. £13.50

4pm: I get a text from the ex telling me I’ve left my (terrible) lockdown knitting behind. We send laughing emoji and I feel hopeful that we’ll remain friends.

8pm: As I sit surrounded by boxes, I feel strangely okay. I tease the pain to see if I feel any sign of regret. I play sad music, our music, think of a loving memory from the beginning of our relationship, go through old photographs of holidays we’ve been on. I even go through my archived Instagram stories (aka life’s highlights reel) but I don’t shed a single tear thinking of the relationship I’ve left behind. The freedom of being single, of being in control of my own life, prevails.

Total: £15.90

Day Seven

7am: I’ve had a great night’s sleep but as I reach for my phone, I see four messages from the ex. They’ve all been sent during the night and each one is an essay the length of a J.R.R. Tolkien book. They start off sad, utterly heartbroken and end in raging anger. I don’t reply but instead take myself for a walk and a coffee. £3.55

10am: I decide the only way to respond to the ex’s texts is with words of kindness. I know he’s hurting and arguing back won’t help anything. He doesn’t react well to my replies and blocks me. Somehow being blocked feels strangely satisfying because I know he won’t be in touch to bother me.

10.30am: My iPhone sends me a notification that my usage is up 43% vs the previous week. No sh*t, I think. I’ve spent every second in constant communication with friends or scrolling through Instagram.

12pm: How have I already run out of food? I don’t give into a takeaway (I deserve a medal for this btw) and instead go to Tesco for a proper food shop. This time I don’t buy any booze and my shop comes to £59. Much better than last time.

2pm: I go to a dentist appointment. The receptionist asks me to fill out a form and as I see “next of kin” I realise that, for the first time in eight years, I have to think about whose name and number to put down. Appointment £75.

5pm: I’m getting used to only cooking every other meal and eating leftovers in between. Saves on the cooking and cleaning, as well as actual ££. I make myself a pasta sauce and freeze into four different containers. My grandmother would be so proud.

7pm: My new books arrived today and I get straight into Daddy by Emma Cline. I pause to reflect on how grateful I am to be living in my sister’s flat and not to have to worry about finding a place in lockdown. Not to mention I won’t be paying any rent for at least a month.

Total: £137.55

The Breakdown

Food/Drink: £229.40
Clothes/Beauty: £0
Entertainment: £24
Travel: £80.90
Other: £510

Total: £844.30

Conclusion

“Yikes, tracking my spending has made me realise just how many takeaways I rely on when I don’t pre-plan my meals. Those oat cappuccinos add up as well but I don’t beat myself up about them because I see them as part of self-care (I realise how privileged I am to be able to say that).

This is an unusual week for me because I have two private medical appointments which only happen every six months. It’s also not every day that I’m paying for a man and a van!

Given that we’re in lockdown when I track this diary, I’ve spent a significant amount more than I would have imagined. Equally, however, I haven’t bought a single bit of makeup since 2019 so that’s been a big saving, and I haven’t had to fork out £14 a day on travel either.”

Originally published at https://refinery29.com.