Money Diary: A Literary Agency Assistant On £31,000

Refinery29

a day ago

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.
Our Money Diaries submission process has changed. If you would like to submit a diary, please use our new form here.
This week:"I'm a 31-year-old woman living in South London and I'm one of the assistants at a literary agency, so I do general administration and manuscript reading. I also write plays, which I'm very serious about, though I am not paid to do that. I live with my male partner, B, who works in recruitment, along with our beloved cat, D, in a cottage-style two-bedroom house, which we moved into last year. It was expensive to move and we're currently on a tighter budget and don't eat out, for instance, that often. I'm neurodivergent and chronically ill, so I do experience overwhelm and fatigue. My approach to money is very much the saver mentality, but I'm trying to learn to treat myself more. My Money Diary week is quite special because B and I are having our civil partnership at the end of the week. It's a low-key, affordable ceremony with only eight guests. We've been together for 14 years and while B was always more maritally inclined, I've always been really baffled by the idea that you are more together because you've undergone a ceremony and received a certificate. I find weddings really noisy and overwhelming and dislike the politics around them re: who is invited, family members trying to control it, etc. The idea of spending lots money on one day particularly doesn't resonate with me. I'm bisexual, so I don't see myself as part of heterosexual society and big heterosexual weddings where you gain status by getting married are a huge part of that in my mind. I agreed to the civil partnership ultimately because we would like legal rights, but I didn't want to get married and become a wife. Luckily, I don't have many particular expectations for the day and I'm much more excited about our honeymoon. It'll certainly be an experience, whatever it is!"
Occupation: Agency Assistant
Industry: Publishing
Age: 31
Location: London
Salary: £31,000 + discretionary bonus of a varying amount.
Paycheque Amount: £2,052.96
Number of housemates: Two, my partner, B, and our cat, D.
Pronouns: She/her
Monthly Expenses
Housing costs: £1,000 for my share of the mortgage, B pays £1,200.
Loan payments: £18 for student loan.
Savings?: £11,299.48 personal savings + £1,028.30 in shared house emergency fund + £119.47 in shared cat emergency fund.
Pension? Yes, I contribute 3% of my salary and my employer contributes 3%.
Utilities: For my half: £17 water, between £23.31- £65.66 for electricity and gas due to smart meter and our solar panels, £93 council tax, £13.97 internet.
All other monthly payments: £15 donation to Shelter, £6.88 phone bill. Subscriptions: £5.99 Netflix.
Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
I did an undergraduate degree, and I took out a student loan and a maintenance loan to pay my fees and my parents paid for my rent and other living costs.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money?
My parents are wealthy, but don't think of themselves in this light because they know wealthier people who are much more extravagant with their spending. It was a bit of a shock for me once I educated myself more and met a broader range of people that the way that they live is elite. My family in general is very puritanical when it comes to money, so they hate wasting money, are devoted to saving (getting good interest rates, etc), and never take financial decisions that are risky. Being savvy with money is seen as the ultimate virtue. My parents believe that if you work hard, you're rewarded, especially in regard to money, which I know is categorically not necessarily true for every person. That was the majority of my financial education.
If you have, when did you move out of your parents/guardians house?
I moved out when I was 22 to live with my partner after graduating.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself? Does anyone else cover any aspects of your financial life?
I became financially responsible when I moved out at 22. However, my parents pay for my therapy, most recently at £80 per session. B also pays £200 more a month on the mortgage because he earns a lot more than me (though I consider it just evening things out as we split all other costs 50/50). I also have private health insurance for work as a benefit that I don't pay for.
What was your first job and why did you get it?
My first job was babysitting the local children, who were mostly quite badly behaved (and this experience was the first step towards my decision not to have children!). I got the job to have some spending money because my parents gave me £10 a month for pocket money and I wanted to be able to do a few more things — mainly buying clothes from Topshop. My parents also thought that it was good for a teenager to have a job.
Do you worry about money now?
I do and it's completely irrational. I know I have financial anxiety and I work through it in therapy. I've mostly had low-paying jobs in the arts, so my pension pot would only cover a year, or two of retirement expenses, which makes me feel sick when I think about retiring. My salary means that I live on a tight budget for London, as I don't subsidise myself with my savings for monthly costs, so this contributes to my anxiety. As I have two chronic illnesses, I'm also worried about the possibility of not being able to work full-time. This is probably why I try to mostly avoid spending my savings, except on holidays and essential house-related purchases — holding onto the money makes me feel safe. But I know that I have my parents as a safety net as a last resort, which I'm grateful for.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income?
Yes, I've had significant inherited income. My parents contributed £180,000 to me and B buying our first flat and my grandparents contributed £20,000. Since then, my grandparents and parents have given me about £25,000, which went towards recently purchasing our second home and some works in the house. We're extremely lucky to have had such help and certainly don't deserve it, though I'm happy that B has financial security that he otherwise wouldn't have. B and I also receive passive income via renting our parking space for £108 a month and also quarterly from our solar panels for our unused power that gets sold back to the grid. We put the passive income in our house emergency fund.
Day One
8:40 a.m. — It's a bank holiday! I reluctantly wake up after a night of broken sleep, partly due to joint pain, partly due to being nuzzled by the cat! I hang out with B while he showers, wearing my neck heat pad to relieve my soreness. I then eat my regular breakfast (Weetabix and oat milk) followed by getting ready. B goes out to get takeout coffee, his treat.
11:30 a.m. — We take the bus to go for a walk, £1.75.
12:30 p.m. — We have lunch in a market town on the edge of Surrey/London at a Turkish restaurant and I have the lentil soup and cheese filo pastry cigars, £21.26 for my half.
1 p.m. — We start wandering by the river, but it immediately begins to rain. We take refuge in John Lewis, where I have an unsuccessful foray into buying a hair accessory for our civil partnership ceremony. We buy a colander to replace the one I broke by dropping it (I have terrible coordination), £7 for my half. I then buy soup, fishcakes and a few other bits for £6.97 at Waitrose.
3 p.m. — We're on the bus home, £1.75. I'm grumpy because I tried on lots of headbands and thought I looked stupid in all of them. I've remembered that I hate shopping and that I don't have any hair accessories because I've always thought they didn't suit me, so why would now be different?
4 p.m. — B and I hate watch Emily in Paris Season 3. I have a leftover cheese filo pastry cigar.
5 p.m. — I've also got into a panic about makeup for the ceremony, as I don't wear it and I realised that all my makeup has dried up. I book a Boots No.7 makeover on the ceremony day to have a professional do it and get a few products for special occasions. I then work on an Arts Council grant application for my playwriting, as I'm aiming to not work on my honeymoon, so I want to meet all my deadlines before then. This means I'm massively overdoing it. I'll be gentler to myself in future weeks, but I imagine that I'll still be genetically incapable of letting a deadline go without trying to meet it. However, one bit of context is that there are very few opportunities now for emerging playwrights and when there are deadlines to actually apply for, they do tend to mysteriously be close together.
8 p.m. — I'm on a new medication and my appetite has been affected, so I eat very late for me. I have a fishcake, rice, and some roasted courgette.
9:30 p.m. — I take a half-hearted bath before heading to bed for a read and then sleep.
Total: £38.73
Day Two
7:15 a.m. — I drop my heat pad straight into my bowl of Weetabix and oat milk, sending it everywhere. Fantastic. Do yoga.
8:15 a.m. — Tube into work, £3.80.
10 a.m. — My colleague is off, so I'm covering and things are manic. I get flustered. Literary agencies might have their glamorous aspects, but I spend most of my day in spreadsheets.
11:45 a.m. — I eat my lunch at my desk as I always do so I can take my full hour's lunch break out of the office. It's a gouda cheese sandwich I made at home.
1 p.m. — Try to find a hair accessory, get bored and end up in a food shop and then Boots. I'm really not impressed with the supermarket, where everything is very overpriced. I nonetheless buy bread and sweet treats for £10.40 and nail polish and aspirin in Boots for £4.53.
2 p.m. — I push on with admin in the afternoon, eating the sweet treats, which were totally not worth the price.
5:30 p.m. — Travel home cost is £3.80.
6:30 p.m. — I buy cartons of oat milk, parmesan, and olives for £10.25 at Tesco. I then stop into the library and pickup two non-fiction books about disability.
7 p.m. — I eat a failed attempt at making an aubergine tomato pasta because I hate food waste.
7:15 p.m. — I do therapy. I feel like I'm starting to make progress.
8:15 p.m. — I continue with my Arts Council application and respond to what feels like a million emails. I am tired.
10 p.m. — Go to bed and turn lights out with no reading.
Total: £32.73
Day Three
8 a.m. — I wake up to the cat sleeping next to me — always great! I love WFH days because my joint pain causes disrupted sleep and the extra time to lie in is amazing. Eat Weetabix and oat milk.
8:45 a.m. — Do yoga and then interrupt my sessions to Google hair accessories. I find a compromise vintage-esque jewel headband on Monsoon that might work and order urgent delivery, £28.60.
9:30 a.m. — Start work and do my first proper meeting with an author on behalf of my boss. I enjoy it so much, especially as we talk about access accommodations, which I find really interesting in a world that is generally not that accommodating.
12 p.m. — I eat minestrone soup and the Italian bread, which I'm impressed by.
12:45 p.m. — Spend my lunch break talking to my access worker for my Arts Council application, which is funded by the Arts Council. The access worker is amazing and I feel so energised by them, but I still return to work absolutely exhausted from having no genuine break. My job is very computer-based and Kindle-based. Afterwards, I eat olives for a snack.
1 p.m. — I spend the afternoon reading and pinching my cheeks to keep myself awake (I think I'm having new medication side effects). I move positions regularly to avoid joint pain, but this also helps me keep conscious! I then report on my thoughts on the book.
5:30 p.m. — Finish work and head on the tube to North London for a pub dinner with a friend, E, before we go to the theatre, £3.80. I have seafood linguine, £28.60, which is amazing as usual and I stroke a massive beast of a dog too.
7:45 p.m. — We see a play about hoarding and though I really like it, I have a relative who is a hoarder and I felt a certain lack of realism. I read an interview with the playwright in the programme who confirmed that they mostly watched hoarding documentaries for research. I think you can write a great play about a topic you've heavily researched, but a person who has actually seen or experienced the thing will probably write something that feels more authentic.
9:30 p.m. — Head home on the Tube, £2.05. I lure the cat into the bedroom by calling her from the window. She comes as usual, but then doesn't hang around — she can be so utterly cold!
10:30 p.m. — I read and then sleep.
Total: £63.05
Day Four
7:10 a.m. — I wake up not too stiff, which is a lovely start. I have Weetabix and oat milk.
8:40 a.m. — I travel into work, slightly late, £3.80.
9:40 a.m. — I arrive at work somehow on time and none of my colleagues are there, but the lights are on, so I'm baffled. All is explained when a colleague who is leaving and collecting their belongings today walks in the door with the colleagues that I expected to see. We hug and say goodbye after they've packed up and then watch them go off in a taxi with all their belongings. I hate being an adult where you're expected to watch that and then just go back to work like a robot.
11:20 a.m. — I last all the way to 11:20 a.m. today before eating my lunch — a cheese sandwich with the fancy bread that tastes a bit like cake. My medication is now making me extremely hungry.
12:45 p.m. — Go for lunch and talk to my parents, who have just returned from Australia. I call to tell them that we thought my Dad's Mum was dying while they were away, but that my Grandma has now improved. My Dad's siblings have a pact to not tell each other if Grandma declines, or dies while they are away on long trips, as she has dementia and has been in a bad way for a long time. It emerges on the phone that my uncle already told them, so we mostly talk about Australia.
2 p.m. — I attend a marketing and publicity meeting in place of my boss, which is really fascinating as I don't usually attend these. It goes well aside from me saying please too many times.
3:30 p.m. — I try to get the rest of my work done in a frantic rush before going on holiday and get very stressed, especially when an envelope gets rejected by DHL for a second time for inexplicable reasons.
5:30 p.m. — I leave work and feel an immediate sense of freedom. Ten days of not working! I take the Tube home and it's sardines, which makes me feel less free, £3.80.
6:30 p.m. — The headdress has arrived and I'm happy with it, as it lies fairly flat on my head! I eat a fishcake, pasta with parmesan and olive oil, and peas.
7 p.m. — I work on speed writing an application to work with a disabled theatre company, as I need to send it off tomorrow. I hate doing things at the last minute, but I've had too many deadlines recently.
10 p.m. — Bed and light off with no reading. By 10 p.m. my body stops when I'm overdoing it.
Total: £7.60
Day Five
8:30 a.m. — It's civil partnership eve! I wake up with unusually bad lower back pain. I lay awake thinking about everything I have to do today. I eat Weetabix and oat milk and put a wash on.
9 a.m. — I start editing my disabled theatre application and make good progress.
10:30 a.m. — B returns from a driving lesson. I put the washing out. We plan for the day's chores and I berate him for having forgotten to get our travel money out near his workplace, so now I have to do it while he food preps. It's just another thing in a too-full day.
11 a.m. — B heads out to Lidl to get most of the remaining food, but my parents kindly insisted on paying for the reception food when they found out we were getting civilly partnered. His purchases include eggs, brioche buns, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, courgettes, mincemeat, crisps, and cream crackers. Meanwhile, I shave my legs, deal with neglected upper lip moustache hair and botch my way through painting my toenails and fingernails.
12 p.m. — I have a lunch of Mexican bean soup and brown bread.
1 p.m. — I meet with my access worker and finalise my Arts Council application. They will now submit it for me, but there is less than a 5% chance of receiving funding in London.
1:30 p.m. — I have a really annoying and slow bus journey into a local (fancier) area, full of people playing videos out loud and shouting into their phones, £1.75. I wear Loop earplugs daily to deal with my noise sensitivity (connected to my neurodivergence), but it doesn't block out jerks. Once there, I collect the two pre-paid for cakes (chocolate cake and vegan lemon drizzle). I also pick up shampoo, conditioner, and moisturiser from Boots, £6.60. I decide that I'm too tired to get the travel money, so I will get it tomorrow.
2:30 p.m. — I get the Tube back, despite being worried about dropping the cakes down the stairs, as I can't do the bus again, £1.30. I get them home intact.
3 p.m. — I head back out to M&S to buy a few fancier bits, but get really stressed as I can't find anything, the vegan selection is terrible and holding everything in the basket is hurting my wrists. I buy oat milk, macaroons, tomato juice, cheese, haloumi quarter pounders, dips, butter, pastries, carrot batons, olives, mozzarella bites, olives, and hummus. This is paid by my parents.
4 p.m. — I charge my way through cleaning various parts of the house, including pouring boiling water on the weeds between the paving stones in the garden so I can pluck them tomorrow and they won't grow back.
8 p.m. — Just as I'm halfway through cleaning the bathroom, my friend and witness for tomorrow, Z, arrives to stay the night. We have a Chinese takeaway, £23.11 for my share as we cover the meal for Z. She brings us a bowl for our cat with D's name on it and a John Lewis voucher — I promptly cry about the cat bowl. We then have a few glasses of champagne that was given by B's colleagues and a cosy chat before bed.
Total: £87.08
Day Six
7 a.m. — Civil partnership day! I wake up earlier than I planned to finish my final chores. I consider waiting for Z to have breakfast, decide this is an absurd idea and eat Weetabix and oat milk. I then finish cleaning the bathroom, tidy the bin area, and weed the garden.
9 a.m. — Z and I hop into an Uber to save time and go to Boots for my makeover, £16. However, the makeup artist isn't in, so once we realise nothing is happening here, we move on to a nearby department store. There I collect 500 EUR in cash, £216.84 for my share, then we start trying to find a makeup stand that will do a last-minute makeover. Eventually, the lovely team at Clinique help us out and make me up with a natural look and I buy foundation, concealer, and mascara, £91. As I've spent basically £0 on makeup since I was 18, the price makes me wince, but the products are great, I get lots of free items and the team deserve to make a reasonable sale from me after being so kind (but also just for doing my makeup). We get an Uber back home, £9.99.
10:45 a.m. — Rush home and my parents have classically arrived early. As more of our guests arrive, I put on my dress (£45 from a charity shop, but bought last year) and then my sister-in-law helps me put my headdress on and ties a silk flower on a ribbon around my wrist.
11:45 a.m. — We are all off in three Ubers to the registry office, £13 for my share.
12 p.m. — We wait outside in the park and take photos. Me and B are then ushered in for our pre-civil partnership interview to check all our details are right for the certificate. B has forgotten his Mum's middle name spelling and the order of her two surnames, which causes some consternation.
12:30 p.m. — We walk hand-in-hand into the smallest room in the registry office where our guest are assembled, which cost £450 total (already paid). I think it's a bit pricey for the amount of work a civil partnership takes on the council's side, especially as some of the council systems have been horrible to navigate and one staff member was rude about it. I'm aware that most people pay a lot more for the venue when they're getting married/civilly partnered, but I don't like paying more than a small sum for legal rights. We have a really minimal ceremony, with one chosen vow from the council's list, which is a little bit, but not too, cringey. B puts my ring on too early and I spend some of the ceremony trying not to laugh, but we get through it. My mother-in-law spontaneously decides to video the whole ceremony from behind the 'altar' and we now wish this footage didn't exist, as we look so awkward. We take more photos around the outside of the building.
1:30 p.m. — We get three Ubers home, £13 for my share.
2 p.m. — B fires up the BBQ and we get out the snacks, while we wait for the food to cook. What follows is quite overwhelming, as I try to talk to all of the eight guests. I can't imagine coping with circulating around more people noise-wise, or energy-level-wise — even this doesn't feel quite like my day sometimes. But the food is good with lots of veggie and vegan options and I spend some time hiding in the kitchen doing prep, or ignoring the guests and watering my plants when I'm too overwhelmed. All the guests behave!
7 p.m. — The guests go home, except for my sister-in-law, J, who is staying the night. B immediately falls asleep and J and I take some alone time. I can't relax, so I attempt to do some emails and some packing, but I don't have enough energy to actually do anything.
9 p.m. — I eat four slices of the excellent chocolate cake for dinner before asking J if she will walk to Tesco to get soil so we can pot my new Kilimanjaro shrub. She agrees for some reason and gets two bags of soil for £9.50. She then shows me how to pot the shrub properly, as I'm new to gardening.
10 p.m. — B wakes up and has dinner. I have a frantic hour of a little bit of tidying and lots of packing.
11 p.m. — A short read and then sleep!
Total: £369.33
Day Seven
7 a.m. — Honeymoon day! I wake-up and eat a decadent breakfast of leftover salmon and roasted vegetables plus some more chocolate cake. Next, I pack and tidy up with B so that B's friend, Y, can stay over to look after our cat.
9:30 a.m. — We spontaneously get yet another Uber to the Tube station then get the train to Gatwick Airport. I look like such a liar claiming that I never take Ubers. My share of the Uber and train tickets are £13.79.
11:30 a.m. — We go through security and B then horrifies me by buying a 50ml bottle of Garnier suncream for £8 (!) because it's the only one that has factor 50 as I wanted. B gets me into a lounge with his Amex card. I've never been to an airport lounge before and it was really quiet, so great for avoiding overwhelm, but the food was terrible. If I hadn't gone on B's Amex card, I would absolutely not have paid £42 for the privilege. But it's free and I love things that are free, so I eat up.
2:30 p.m. — We take off to Kefalonia. I mostly nap on the plane and occasionally walk around looking like an idiot with my giant travel pillow around my neck. I'm moving towards embracing my eccentricity. I buy some snacks on the plane, a cookie, a Kit Kat and some water, £7.05.
6 p.m. — We land in Argostoli Airport. It's a fantastic airport: really quick to get through and there's a man on the door greeting us as we enter the terminal, which I've never seen before and loved.
7 p.m. — Our taxi driver meets us to take us to the northern fishing village of Fiskardo. Kefalonia is the most beautiful place I've ever seen and there are goats wandering up the cliffs! However, the roads are windy and our driver goes fast and I soon become violently travel sick. I end up asking to pull over multiple times and being sick on the side of the road and down myself. The driver is extremely lovely about it. The taxi cost 90 EUR and we tip 10 EUR (paid in cash already purchased).
8:30 p.m. — We get to our villa (which has had the key left in the lock because Fiskardo is very safe) and I put the sick dress in a plastic bag and collapse on the bed. B goes out to get food and discovers that there is only one extremely expensive supermarket in Fiskardo. He buys waffles, cream cheese, and Haribo, £4.37 for my share. By the time he returns, I've revived enough to sit on the terrace, looking at the beautiful view of the neighbouring island of Ithaca while eating Haribo. I'm excited about seeing the view in the light tomorrow.
9:30 p.m. — Sleep.
Total: £33.21
Conclusion
"It was a highly unusual week and I made lots of purchases that I wouldn't have made in my normal life. That said, my parents covering our reception food saved us a lot of money and the civil partnership costs were very minimal comparably to other similar events (less than £1,200 including the food), even if I did let myself buy things that I wouldn't normally allow. I notice that I had no entertainment spend because my only entertainment was a night at the theatre that I already paid for and it was a week of mostly doing writing applications and chores. I typically have a little more fun across the week and I also don't normally work quite as hard as this because I literally can't due to fatigue. I found the experience of recording my spend intriguing, as a Money Diary fan, but I didn't love coming face-to-face with the cost of my smaller purchases. I feel a bit sick at seeing that the total weekly amount is well over half of my post-mortgage/bills income, but the travel money is a large portion of this amount and I paid for that out of savings. I don't think I would change much in the future, except to note that the tiny extravagant purchases didn't bankrupt me and I could probably be more realistic about them, rather than immediately denying myself."