A Week Traveling Full-Time On A $20,000 Salary

Occupation: Freelance Social Media Manager, Copywriter, and Content Creator
Industry: Social Media Marketing
Age: 24
Location: Currently in Bali, Indonesia...but I'm "living" in a new country every month
Salary: $20,000
Paycheck Amount (1x/month): $1,450 steady monthly paychecks. I also get random one-off freelance gigs.
Gender Identity: Cis Woman

Monthly Expenses
Monthly Housing Costs: This depends on the country, to be honest. Usually I'm staying in cheap dorm hostel beds if I'm alone or cheap boutique hotels if my partner is traveling with me (we split the cost evenly). Accommodation is my BIGGEST travel expense. So if I'm in a very expensive country (like England or France), I will try to stay on friends' couches, pet sit, or WWOOF (aka volunteer on a farm in exchange for food and accommodation) for free. This month across Indonesia, I spent roughly $640 USD on accommodation. Last month in Thailand, I spent only about $300 on accommodation for the month.
Loans: $0. My parents are paying off my bachelor's student loans for me until I make enough to pay them back.
Netflix: $0 (I'm on my family's account.)
Amazon Prime: $0 (I'm on my family's account.)
Boostly: $20 (I'm testing out an Instagram automation software for clients.)
Google Storage: $9.99
iCloud Storage: $9.99
Squarespace: $144/year
Show.it: $228/year (the annual fee for a personal website I have for coaching Instagram influencers)

10 a.m. — I wake up just before 10 in a shabby little hostel guesthouse on the outskirts of Jogjakarta, Indonesia, with my partner beside me. We both slept terribly and are excited to shower and enjoy a complimentary breakfast! We hop in the dingy shower together, giggling and laughing because the water is only SUPER HOT or SUPER COLD. We join other guests on the outdoor patio, and a sweet old Indonesian woman brings us each a hot pink smoothie bowl. We're extra happy because free breakfast in Indonesia is usually veggie fried rice or veggie fried noodles. We stay and chat with other guests for an hour and a half, plan our day (aka, decide which coffee shop looks like it will have good Wi-Fi so we can get work done), and pay for the room we slept in. I pay for this night, and my partner will pay for the next night at the same guesthouse. $21.48

12:20 p.m. — Uber doesn't really exist in Indonesia — everyone uses a Malaysian app called Grab. So I order a Grab to a coffee shop across town. The journey is longer than expected, with quite a bit of traffic, but it is still surprisingly cheap. $2.72

1:15 p.m. — We arrive at this hip, industrial, chic coffee shop that is virtually empty. I always joke that the "fee" for using a café's Wi-Fi is ordering a coffee. Like most coffee shops in Jogjakarta, this one has fancy artisanal beans and brewing methods. I order a Vietnamese-style drip coffee, my partner gets a V60 black coffee, and we split a dessert order of banana fritters. I front the bill, and he gives me cash for his coffee. Time to get my freelance remote work done! $3.58

2:25 p.m. — I finish a Skype call with my best friend from New York (who is currently in Thailand on a yoga retreat and is therefore in a closer time zone). I read through my work emails, but I'm not actually being productive, so I decide to listen to my grumbling belly and order a late lunch. This café has zero vegetarian options, so I finagle with the cashier to remove meat from their nasi goreng fried-rice dish. I'm salty because I still have to pay full price. I also order my partner a spaghetti carbonara, because he can eat anything and everything. Lo and behold, they douse my rice in fish sauce; I send it back and exchange it for plain pasta with whatever veggies they have in the kitchen. $4

4:05 p.m. — Hungry and frustrated, we walk to another coffee shop 15 minutes away. They also have zero vegetarian options, so I angrily order a "detox juice," which is a pulpy mess of cucumber, apple, lemon, and honey. I proceed to cry on the sidewalk because I'm fed up with restaurants in this part of Indonesia not being vegetarian or vegan-friendly. $1.57

5:29 p.m. — My partner calls us a Grab to the famous Maliboro Street, so we can people watch, get some movement in by walking, and get a few errands done. We've been in this cool university city for about a week, and we've done virtually zero touristy activities. I had to hit a huge work deadline (aka, delivering 11 different social media calendars to a marketing agency based in New York), so it's nice to finally explore the city. My partner pays for the car in cash.

6:13 p.m. — We walk by a post office that is weirdly open 24 hours a day. I decide to finally buy stamps for the seven postcards and letters I've been carrying for three weeks but haven't sent yet to friends and family back home. International stamps are hella cheap here! $3.29

7 p.m. — My partner thinks it'd be hilarious to drive to dinner in a "becak" — aka, a three-wheeled pedicab. We negotiate a fair price (we checked Grab for an estimate) but end up tipping the driver extra. My partner pays in cash.

7:30 p.m. — We decide to indulge at one of the city's nice Italian restaurants for dinner. I'd been craving pasta after seeing my partner's delicious lunch. I order a mushroom carbonara, he orders a Mediterranean pizza, and we share a small carafe of weird Balinese red wine (I don't recommend it) and a chilled veggie starter. We split the bill evenly in cash. $8.52

9:17 p.m. — I spot a tourist girl with a cute Indonesia bag at the restaurant. She tells me that the boutique shop is just down the street. We walk there, but I'm unable to find something similar to her bag, so I end up buying a silly little beaded pom-pom tassel to attach to my purse zipper. I hate wasting money on souvenirs, but this seems wonderfully silly, simple, and cheap. I live out of a backpack, so I can't buy much. $3.58

9:30 p.m. — We stop by a friendly travel agency that is open late. We are stressed because we have literally NO travel plans and are starting to get stir-crazy after over a week of working in this city. A friendly Indonesian travel agent tells us about an eight-hour train ride to a volcano in East Java, and that we can book our business-class train tickets at any local convenience store (bizarre, right?). We thank her and sit in a parking lot for an hour discussing the cheapest place to go to for our last five days in Indonesia. I'm emotionally exhausted and hate planning everything the night before. We make no final decisions. A busker comes to play us a song on the guitar. I give him some spare change out of sympathy (he was obviously new to busking). $1.43

11:27 p.m. — My partner calls us a Grab home to our guesthouse. We both spend the ride Googling flights, hotels, and potential day trips. I cry because I'm so sick and tired of late, stressful nights and feeling stuck.

8 a.m. — I wake up after a ton of nightmares and anxiety. Turns out my partner didn't sleep either and has abruptly decided that buying flights to Bali for a five-day "vacation from our vacation" is the best choice. We book last-minute flights with Air Asia to Denpasar and have to start packing our bags. Luckily, round-trip tickets are miraculously cheaper this close to flight time. $78.49

8:30 a.m. — Our complimentary breakfast is totally lame today. The hotel serves us what is essentially instant noodles with a few added greens and a fried egg. I wander to a "warung" food stall down the street to get a questionable but delicious banana leaf piled with tofu, tempe, raw veggies, cooked noodles, and homemade peanut sauce. All the ingredients were sitting in the hot sun all morning, so I'm a bit worried about food poisoning...but it's so cheap! It's my cheapest meal yet in Indonesia. I obviously use my reusable wooden fork to #SayNoToPlastic lol. $0.57

9:12 a.m. — We check out of the homestay (my partner covers the cost of our last night) and hop in a Grab to the airport! Traffic is NUTS. We spend our hour-long drive researching tiny, low-key hotels AWAY from the awful swarms of summer tourists (aka, the 18-year-olds drinking heavily and getting their first 2 a.m. tattoos AND the people in their late 20s trying to "eat pray love" in Bali). My partner pays for the car.

10:18 a.m. — A dodgy breakfast still wasn't enough, so we venture into the only food vendor at the airport. Our flight is delayed 45 minutes, which gives us time to grab something to eat and stereotype all the different Western travelers on our flight to Bali (yes, we can be a little pretentious...but who doesn't love people-watching?!). My partner gets a local sweet bun, coffee, and a sausage roll for himself. I buy us water, bananas, and cassava chips for the flight because that's sorta healthy, right?! $3.23

5 p.m. — We finally land at the Denpasar airport in Bali and are totally overwhelmed by how many "insta-bangers" influencers are there. We're not in Kansas anymore! I work in social media and influencer marketing, but I really do not enjoy hanging out with lifestyle bloggers (food bloggers are much more fun to eat with). Our Grab car to the hotel is WAY more expensive than on the island of Java, and we're pretty sure the driver scammed us into paying for a nonexistent parking pass. I negotiate, and my partner pays the $12.55.

6:40 p.m. — We arrive at another dingy little guesthouse across the island and agree to pay at checkout the next morning. We're only there for a night before we take a tiny boat to a tiny island to stay in our tiny villa. We are SUPER hungry and head to a cute vegan spot I found on Google Maps. Happy belly = happy soul. I pay for dinner! We walk home hand-in-hand, feeling happy to be somewhere new (the best part of being a digital nomad!). Time to rest well before an early-morning boat ride. $17.19

10 a.m. — Helllllo, Bali! We wake up and realize our dingy guesthouse is actually a beautiful Buddhist/Hindu garden sanctuary! Complimentary brekky is the same as usual: instant coffee, OJ, and either scrambled eggs and toast or a banana pancake. I choose the latter. We wander the streets trying to find a better boat deal, because our current guesthouse quoted us WAY too high. Luckily, our next hotel offers to arrange it for us at a much better price. We decided to grab an early lunch at a posh Japanese restaurant with a special vegan menu! I pay for both of us on my credit card. $16.77

12:30 p.m. — We scurry back to the hotel to pay our remaining bill. My partner's credit card is rejected (so frustrating, right?!), so I cover the bill. Totally not a big deal — he'll pay me back at some point. $33.13

12:50 p.m. — We have to pay for our boat tickets in cash. My partner never has cash, so I pay for both. Although they aren't round-trip tickets, they at least include a door-to-door service and will get us to our hotel on this tiny remote island. We heard a Japanese family pay a much more expensive rate than we did and realize that this boat company is probably scamming us all. Oh, well! This is the "tourist tax." $31.55

5:30 p.m. — We get to our little oceanside villa! It's SO CUTE. While it has views of the ocean bay, it also has views of a local garbage dump. Thanks, booking.com! We wander down the road, hoping to find a decent place to eat. For some bizarre reason, one restaurant has real corn tortillas and serves the closest thing to a Mexican taco that I've seen in 13 months of travel. Tempe, avo, mango tacos with a sunset beach view?! Yes, please! My partner covers the bill.

9:30 p.m. — Dinner wasn't enough. We find another beach bar serving something called "Apple Cinnamon." We wait impatiently for 25 minutes and then gorge on caramelized bananas and apple slices simmered in sugar syrup. It's freakin' delicious. I pay in cash but am a little salty that a tiny dessert is the same cost as the restaurant's mains. $3.58

10 p.m. — Once we return to our charming little beachside garbage-y villa, the owner confirms that my partner has paid for all four nights through booking.com. We usually take turns paying for accommodation. Since I paid for our previous trip to Singapore, he owes me a small chunk of change (we keep track of our shared expenses via the Splitwise app, which minimizes nagging), so he is paying the bigger bills to slowly pay me back.

11:30 p.m. — As we lie in bed, I do something I haven't done in a LONG time! It's a guilty pleasure, of course. I window shop on Anthropologie's website, dreaming of placing an order of the clothing I can't yet afford. We fly to New York in a few days to surprise my parents (I've been on the road for 13 months thus far), so maybe I can preorder a few goodies online?! My partner laughs, admits he sometimes does the same thing, and then cuddles me till we fall asleep.

8:30 a.m. — Because we went to bed early, we wake up feeling rejuvenated. I wanted to meditate, but instead decide to sleep an extra 20 minutes while my partner does a quick bodyweight exercise. He hops in the shower, and I work on social media calendars and reply to DMs on some of the client Insta accounts I run. I devour a delightful dragonfruit smoothie bowl for brekky (another awesome complimentary breakfast) and spend an hour chatting with the guesthouse owner about renting a scooter and visiting some beautiful beaches.

12:08 p.m. — We grab our bags and hop on a scooter to make our way to a cool vegan-friendly deli for lunch. I'm driving and my partner rides behind me, navigating. Within literally five minutes, we have a quintessential Bali experience: We crash our scooter. I round a narrow, gravel-filled corner on a backcountry road, and one second later, we're both rolling on pot-holey asphalt. It sucks SO MUCH. The stars align (sorta), and two Dutch nurse travelers happened to pass us. They come to our rescue, feed us cookies, and test our limbs. Only bad cuts and bruises! Our guesthouse owner comes to our rescue and brings us to a medical clinic to get cleaned and bandaged. She thankfully doesn't charge us for the five-minute scooter rental. We pay in cash for the medical treatment. I don't bother worrying about insurance covering it, because it's so inexpensive. $10.70

2:45 p.m. — After a few hours of being stuck in a medical clinic, we are SO HUNGRY! We have no way to get to our cute vegan-friendly lunch spot and are forced to hop on the back of two locals' scooters for a lift. It's pricier than it should be, but it doesn't feel like we have much of a choice. I hang on for dear life and then slip the drivers some cash. $7.17

3:10 p.m. — Ahhh, my favorite time of day: lunch! I order an unusually pulpy orange-pineapple juice, a cashew brownie, and a steaming hot tempe veggie rice bowl. My partner gets his own rice bowl with chicken. The entire meal is gone in minutes. My partner goes to pay with his debit card and is turned away — it's cash only! We pull out all the cash we have (I cover 2/3 of the bill), and hurrah! The cashier gives us a free reusable tote bag for some bizarre reason, and we go on our merry way. $10.04

4 p.m. — We hobble to the nearby beach and thankfully find a beach club that doesn't make us buy any drinks while we lounge on their bean bags. We peek at the food and drink menu and are totally shocked — they charge 3.5x the normal prices for EVERYTHING! We enjoy sunset and sip on a free bottle of water we got from our guesthouse.

6:45 p.m. — We wander to another veg-friendly restaurant nearby. When we arrive, it is swarmed with glowing yogis chatting and studying for their teacher certification. The restaurant is not nearly as cool as its Google listing photos imply, and the waiter is the most apathetic waiter I've ever met. I order pesto pasta with avo on top. My partner gets a dry tempe burger. The restaurant turns out to be cash-only as well, but alas, we have no cash. I find a hidden $20 USD bill I have in my wallet, and we try to convert it to the local currency, the rupiah. The waiter struggles with the math and tries to charge us double in USD, because he doesn't have change. I run around the restaurant like a crazy woman, desperate to find change for him. A laughing couple supports my cause, and we leave without being scammed! $7

9:21 p.m. — Our scooter friends can't pick us up, so we revert to taking a local island "taxi." We wait on a dimly lit street and hail down a pickup truck. We negotiate a good price and pile into the cushioned back, preparing for a 35-minute bumpy journey home beneath a brilliant array of stars. By the time we're home, I'm ready to pass out...what a LONG day! $7.18

9:15 a.m. — Tormented by nightmares and an achy body, I wake up feeling sore, groggy, and awful. My partner attempts to kiss my back till I awake, but I "hit snooze" and beg for five more minutes. At breakfast, I have a banana pancake that is 100% different than every other banana pancake I've had in Indonesia — super-flat, chewy, and satisfying. I'm eager to lie in bed and check my emails to see if any of my clients have sent revisions. Nothing. I DM a cool Ukrainian artist Instagrammer to collab with an earbud company I work for. I ignore the six copy-pasted collaboration requests I have in their inbox...I then reply to all our comments on a recent post. I decide to lie in bed and go through all my receipts and scan them into Evernote, because it feels like a responsible, adulty thing to do.

12:22 p.m. — We pile on our guesthouse owner's scooter, and she drives us to a nearby clinic. Time to redress my gross bandages. Seconds before I sit down to see the nurse, a bruised and battered American teenager stumbles into the room. It's clear he's just had a scooter incident while driving shirtless. I quickly make room for the poor guy and return to the waiting room, chuckling to my partner that the doctors in Bali must make a lot of money treating us dumb tourists who crash on their scooters. She finally sees me and slathers on lots of antibiotic cream and fresh, clean bandages! I pay by card on my way out. $25.13

2:50 p.m. — We get a lift on the scooters to a nearby blue lagoon — damn, it's SO beautiful! Thankfully, there's a lovely hotel on the rim of the cliffs with a beanbag-covered balcony. We nestle into our spots, bask in the sun, and order lunch. I get a red Thai curry, my partner gets a tuna poke bowl, and we share super-crispy sweet potato wedges (side note: Asian sweet potatoes are freakin' delicious). I whip out my laptop to work on a performance analysis of my own personal Instagram feed and start writing a new strategy for next month. My battery dies before I finish, so I read a bizarre yet intriguing chapter of my book (You and I Eat the Same: On the Countless Ways Food and Cooking Connect Us to One Another) about Mennonites making cheese in Northern Mexico. We sip on iced soy-milk lattes while the sun sets behind the cliffs, casting a dreamy summer glow on us. My partner fronts the bill.

7:13 p.m. — My partner insists on walking 30 minutes to a restaurant on the other side of the island. Together we hobble and limp past sad, empty beach clubs (it's high season in Bali, which makes them even more sad). An hour later, we make it to this cute rooftop restaurant. Somehow we both order different versions of a dry, salty pesto pasta dish. We spend much of dinner laughing and taking ridiculous photos of our "gourmet" dishes, pretending we're in food-blogger mode. I try to pay for dinner but realize I'm out of cash — oh no, how have I become so forgetful?! I find a few small bills floating around my purse after the owner tells us the only ATM is on another island, ha! We happily agree that we'll come back in the morning to pay the rest of the bill, because it's a tiny island and I'm sure it's easy for him to hunt us down if we truly dined-and-dashed. $5.02

7:41 p.m. — We decide to keep walking home, despite our knackered bodies. We chuckle at how quaint this little Balinese island feels. Once we finally get home, we book another flight from Denpasar to Singapore, so that we can catch our 30+ hour journey back to New York. It feels like another leg of my year working around the globe, but part of me realizes that this might be the end of a really transformative trip. $187

8 a.m. — I wake up curled into one big stress ball. Last-minute work emails and assignments (from a marketing agency I freelance for) somehow become the first thing I look at in the morning. I pop a double dose of Ashwagandha capsules for stress reduction, chug water, and watch irrelevant Insta stories to distract myself. I can barely stomach free breakfast, because my whole body is riddled with anxiety about work, flights, ailments, emails, and having to leave the comforts of our tiny little Balinese island to rush to a crappy airport hotel.

10 a.m. — My partner returns to a medical clinic to have his wounds re-dressed, while I sit on my bungalow deck hotspotting my computer and trying to finish duplicating nine different clients' posts across different social media channels. I told my boss I have 30 hours of travel coming up (my enormous voyage back to the land of bagels, drip coffee, and good Wi-Fi...oh, and my family) and am struggling to get this last-minute work done. Did I mention I have four flights to get me home? No. Should I have told my boss this was coming up at least a week ago? Yes. Did I only book my flights just a few days earlier? Yes. Am I a mess? Yes.

12 p.m. — Bags packed after a day-early checkout, we get dropped off at a local seaside restaurant. The plan is to eat a final lunch and then get picked up by the boat company's pickup truck to get transferred to the harbor. We discover that every ATM on the island has been emptied, and we cannot get cash (still gotta pay back the guy from dinner!). The guesthouse owner has us charge everything on my partner's credit card, promising faithfully to deliver the cash money to everyone owed (but the transaction is kinda annoying, because they make us pay a 3% credit card fee...). This covers the cost of the large water bottles we took from our guesthouse, the few bucks we owe that restaurant owner, and the fee for the boat ride.

5:20 p.m. — A long, bumpy boat ride followed by a complimentary van drop-off bring us to our surprisingly decent airport hotel in Kuta. We are exhausted and thankful that the hotel seems okay and has a restaurant. It's the day before our massive journey to New York, and all I want to do is eat, repack, watch Queer Eye, and sleep. Turns out the hotel restaurant is ginormous and 100% empty. We settle on potato wedges, a watermelon smoothie, and two creamy turmeric pasta dishes (mine is with veggies, and his is with chicken). I front the bill. $13.42

10:40 p.m. — I stupidly check my email before bed and see a message from one of my clients. My cortisol level spikes, and I know that I've just ruined my chances of getting a good night's rest. Turns out she wants revisions for a social media schedule and has only given me 24 hours' notice. Looks like I'll have to stress at the airports and maybe even pay for in-flight Wi-Fi to get it done. Sometimes I really hate my job...

6 a.m. — We're up at 6, packing bags, and rushing to check out. I pay the bill for one night's accommodation at a surprisingly cheap rate (it's a nice hotel near the airport). I book a lot of hotels via booking.com, so I get a 15% "genius" discount for this one — woo-hoo! Plus it includes a free shuttle to the airport for our morning flight. Score! $22.92

6:30 a.m. — My partner's scooter injuries are proving to be tricky. He hops on our free luggage trolley, and I roll him across the airport, hoping to find a wheelchair. We get to the counter, pay no extra fees for luggage (thank goodness), and then get a free wheelchair! The only bummer is once we arrive at our next destination via a budget airline, we have to pay for a wheelchair to come get us.

7:15 a.m. — It's our last chance to use up our Indonesian rupiah cash while we wait by the gate. We also haven't had breakfast yet. I buy a tiny bag of salted cashews (my fave airplane snack), dried mango slices (covered in sugar but whatever, they're delicious), two water bottles, a matcha Kit-Kat bar, and Peanut M&M's. I also realize it's my last chance to buy presents for my family, and I totally forget to get little tchotchkes. I buy a mini bottle of virgin coconut oil for my vegan sister, a bag of luwak coffee (which contains feces produced when the Asian palm civet eats the coffee cherries...it's supposed to be the best coffee in the world) for my mom, Indonesian White Tiger Balm for my dad, nice roselle pink salt for my foodie sister, and handmade soap for my brother-in-law (I know, it's a sucky gift, but at least I tried!). Everything is way more expensive than I thought. I use my cash and have to pay by credit card for the rest. $39.64

7:28 a.m. — I'm starting to get hangry at this point. Obviously, cashews won't tide me over. We sit down at a little breakfast nook at the airport with avocado toast and beetroot hummus toast. Inflated airport prices always make me a little salty — this bread with frozen mushy avo should be wayyy cheaper and a lot more delicious. I cover the bill via credit card. Then we make our way to our gate. $18.63

11:50 a.m. — Flight one is complete! We land in Singapore with a friendly old man waiting for us with a wheelchair. He is a total airport whiz and has us cut all the lines. We have to pay him at the end (10 Singaporean dollars), but it is totally worth it. Wouldn't you pay that much to skip through airport security, customs, and immigration lines?! $7.21

12:30 p.m. — We take a Grab taxi to a friend's house, where my partner left some luggage a few months back. Time to repack and avoid overweight fees at the airport! He covers the fare both ways. We literally stopped in Singapore just to get his luggage before beginning our long journey to New York — so I sass him into paying for the taxis.

3 p.m. — I weirdly love airport food. We decide to return to Changi Airport (the world's best airport) for lunch. Turns out we're in a weird terminal and are stuck eating Subway sandwiches, which makes me cringe. We each pay for our own meals. I get a vegetarian foot-long sub with an interesting soy-veggie patty in it, alongside two cookies and a water bottle. I use up the rest of my cash and end up with a few coins I'll keep as mementos. $5.20

4:18 p.m. — My partner winces in pain, so I pop by the airport 7-Eleven to buy paracetamol (acetaminophen). At this point, I'm becoming a nurse, and I now carry a whole slew of meds for him (is this what married couples do?!). $7.16

6:10 p.m. — Time for flight number two from Singapore to Malaysia. My partner boards early with another super-friendly wheelchair helper. I stay behind, curled up in a big stressball trying to make last-minute edits on a social media calendar for a client who doesn't understand how brutal 30 hours of travel is. Finally, I make it onto our flight — deadline hit! I'm ready to stress eat. I alway request Asian vegetarian special meals, because they tend to be the most flavorful and veggie-filled, PLUS they get served first. I nonetheless glance at the food menu to see if there's anything worthwhile — nope!

7:20 p.m. — Hello, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia! An adorably shy teenage wheelchair assistant waits for everyone to disembark the plane before collecting us. Again, we whiz past EVERYONE at the airport. Is this what fancy VIP treatment feels like? We are behind schedule and have to make haste to get to our gate on time to board our next longgggg flight to Doha, Qatar. My partner can't bend his leg, so we beg a Qatar Airways woman at the counter to at least give him a medical upgrade with extra legroom. I'm secretly praying she can move me up, too! My prayers were answered, and I don't have to pay a penny more!

8:40 p.m. — 22+ more hours (and two flights) to go, and I'll be home for the first time in what feels like forever. I can't wait to not pay for accommodation and sleep in my childhood bed. I can't wait for my mom to shower us with excessive amounts of food and a fancy dinner or two. I also can't wait to go blow some of that money on concert tickets and bougie brunch in Brooklyn. Also, damn, how have I gone 13 months without Amazon Prime? I make a mental list of stupid crap I want to buy while I'm home and slowly lull off to sleep.

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