A Week In Charlottesville, VA On A $350,000 Joint Income

Occupation: Manager
Industry: Nonprofit
Age: 36
Location: Charlottesville, VA
Salary: $140,000 (this includes consulting that I do on the side that pays $25,000 to $30,000 annually).
Joint income: $350,000. My husband, C. (same age, works in PR) makes $195,000 base + bonus ($15,000 in 2024).
Assets: Checking accounts: whatever covers monthly credit card bills; my savings: $20,000; C.’s savings: $22,000; joint savings/down payment fund: $130,000; joint investment: $100,000; retirement: $550,000 (my 401(k): $400,000; C.’s 401(k): $150,000); HSA: $15,250; car: $20,000 value.
Debt: Car loan: $15,000
Paycheck Amount (2x/month): $2,400 for me and $5,224 for C. (net/take-home); my consulting pays $2,000 to $2,500 monthly (I pay taxes quarterly).
Pronouns: She/her

Monthly Expenses
Housing Costs: $2,250 (rent, including utilities).
Loan Payments: $462.59 (car payment).
Retirement: $3,916.67 pre-tax (we both max out our 401(k)s).
HSA: $712.50 pre-tax (we max out a family HSA).
Health/Dental/Vision Insurance: $240.20 pre-tax.
Joint HYSA/Brokerage Investment: $4,000 (we each contribute $2,000) — $1,000 is allocated to savings and $3,000 is invested.
Individual Savings: I put an additional $1,000 into my savings. C. says he “puts whatever he doesn’t spend into his savings.”
Cell Phone: $208.60
Wifi: $25
Apple: $23.30 (this is a combination of frankly mysterious Apple fees).
News Subscriptions: $0 (subscriptions through employers).
Hulu/ESPN/Disney+ Bundle: $16.99
IVF Embryo Cryogenic Storage: $65

Annual Expenses
Tempdrop App: $35.99
Sweat App: $119.99
Credit Card Fees: $1,975 across six credit cards. We pay for everything using credit cards for the points and then pay the monthly statement balances in full, usually $2,000 to $3,000 (mine) and $2,500 to $3,500 (C.’s).
Car Insurance: $1100 ($550 twice a year).
VA Vehicle Tax: $700 ($350 twice a year).

Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes, my concept of education (formed by my parents and those around me) included college as the final step. It felt like everyone at my high school went on to higher education, whether it was a two- or four-year program. For undergrad, I had scholarships, some help from my parents, and student loans (about $10,000, which I repaid within a few years of working). For my master’s degree, I chose an evening program so I could continue working full time for the paycheck and a $5,000 tuition reimbursement from my employer per calendar year. I still had to take out loans and accumulated $90,000 of student loan debt from my program. I repaid my loans as a result of the pandemic student loan policies, overtime and extra work (ranging from $300 to $2,500 monthly), and becoming a DINK (Dual Income, No Kids) couple. While I’m not sure whether my master’s degree was worth what I paid for it, I try to focus on what I did get out of it, including the real-life lessons I learned from being in so much debt.

Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
My parents were upper middle class but talked as though we were broke, which was said lightly but likely sincerely felt. The two ways my mother talked to me about money was teaching me the power of a sale (she helped pioneer girl math) and the underestimated cost of eating meals out. My parents gave me a debit card and spending money in high school, and I disliked asking my mother for more, so I was pretty frugal.

What was your first job and why did you get it?
I started baby-sitting around 12 years old, since I’ve always been good with children… Though back then it was probably because I was a child myself? My first jobs that involved a paycheck rather than cash were working as a summer camp counselor and refereeing children’s sports in high school.

Did you worry about money growing up?
Yes and no. My parents would talk about how we spent too much, which created an underlying sense of uncertainty, but we never wanted for anything during my childhood. Then my father lost his job in the 2008 market crash, which was transformative for me as I saw my parents legitimately worry about losing their house. That was my first lesson in making sure to prepare for the future.

Do you worry about money now?
I do, even though I know my finances are in a solid position. My adult financial anxiety began when I graduated college and was making $30,000, contributing 3% to my 401(k), and returning cans for extra cash. Although I liked my job, it had less career mobility than I’d realized, so I worried about future earning potential. Later, I wasn’t sure my master’s degree was worth it and worried I’d never be free from the debt. I was ashamed I’d wasted all the advantages my parents had given me.

When I met C., we were making around $80,000 each (he started out making $24,000). After many, many job applications, we made some career moves; I taught C. to budget and save for retirement; and now we “pay” ourselves first (through retirement, savings, and investments) with every paycheck, raise, and bonus, before spending what’s left. I do feel more secure, but I still worry it’s not enough. It all feels new (it’s only been in the last few years that our finances started to flourish) and temporary (we want to buy a house and grow our family). So I struggle with wanting to save more money while also wanting to enjoy it while also wanting to give back. I’m definitely the financial worrier in my relationship; C. started making more money than his parents within a few years of working and has no financial anxiety.

At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
Although I started my first full-time job at 22, my parents still paid for my car and health insurance (and I “quietly” raided their pantry for cereal and toilet paper when I visited). So I’d say age 26, when I gave back the car and came off their health insurance. My financial safety net is my husband and our savings, and then my parents (who have recovered from the 2008 crash and are doing better than ever).

Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
It’s not “income”, but my parents gifted me $20,000 toward my $50,000 wedding (C. and I paid for the rest and for our honeymoon).

8 a.m. — It’s Monday! I wake up and think about how to track our expenses because my husband C. and I have a hybrid system for now: joint savings and investment accounts but separate checking accounts and credit cards. We’d already established our own financial habits by the time we met, and I value maintaining a degree of independence, given women’s economic freedom in the past. Since we’re ultimately a team (and I used our household income for our diary), I decide to tell C. to track his expenses.

8:30 a.m. — C. and I both work from home (our DC offices went fully remote during the pandemic), and whoever gets up first empties the dishwasher. He’s up first today, so I get dressed (Old Navy linen pants and a Gap Factory long-sleeve shirt) and get a bowl of cereal. I do a Spanish lesson on Duolingo then start work.

1 p.m. — I work for a public policy nonprofit, so we’ve been reassessing our 2025 strategy — in light of the new administration — for any new opportunities or challenges. For lunch, I don’t really feel like making anything that involves the oven or stove, so I toast some bread and spread peanut butter and banana on top. I also cut up an avocado and mix it with salsa to eat with Tostitos.

4 p.m. — After lunch, I alternate between meetings and revising our 2025 strategy until I go for a run. C. and I started fertility treatments in the last year, and the meds (combined with changing my workouts and eating my feelings) caused weight gain as well as general bloating. We decided to take a cycle off though, to give my body (and our emotions) a break from the meds. This means that today I can go for a real run instead of just a “brisk walk”! During my run, I listen to Call Her Daddy.

5 p.m. — After doing a 4-mile run, I feel slow and out of shape but happy I went. I check the mail on my way in and see a baby shower invitation, which is bittersweet because I love celebrating my friends and their happiness, but I want so badly to grow my own family, and baby-focused conversations are difficult to navigate. I shower and log back into work, while C. makes dinner (tacos al carbon with a salad). Since he cooked, I do the dishes. C. is concerned our diary will be boring since we’re homebodies, so he helpfully offers to buy a Switch to make it interesting.

7:30 p.m. — Our church is hosting a gifting drive, and yesterday I selected four tags for a $25 gift card, a doll, slime, and a “toddler table set.” I assumed the last one meant toy kitchen items, but I realize I’m an idiot when the online search results are all actual table and chairs sets. So I pore over reviews to make sure I don’t purchase something cheap or faulty. I also look for corresponding gifts (like additional accessories for the doll) to give each child two things to open. One of my absolute favorite things about feeling financially stable is being able to be generous. I stress the kids (or parents) will be unhappy with what I chose. That’s one of my absolute least favorite things about having anxiety. $182.52

9:30 p.m. — I review this week’s plan for my side hustle of consulting. After an hour, I head to bed. I stopped my basic night routine of retinol when we started trying to conceive and now just put on moisturizer. C. sends me approximately 50 Instagram Reels every day (his “pebbling,” which is when you give little gifts or do small gestures to show someone you care about them — the way penguins give pebbles to each other), so we watch them together.

8:30 a.m. — Working from home can be repetitive! Wake up, get dressed in the same Old Navy pants (but in white) and a sweater I got from Etsy, and log in to work with water and a bagel.

11 a.m. — Today I’m meeting with my manager to discuss where I can continue to grow. The conversation gives me a lot to think about, including how much I want to progress my career versus staying at my current level. It’s wild to think I’ve been working 14 years and could still have twice that to go!

12 p.m. — Since we have steak left over from last night, I make a salad and throw the steak in. I scroll my phone while eating and see a friend posted a GoFundMe for a recently widowed stay-at-home mother, so I donate $100. That reminds me that another friend was raising money for a mentorship program; I pull up her fundraising page and donate $100. $200

3 p.m. — I lead a call to discuss our strategy for coalition building and public awareness campaigns. Afterward I snack on hummus and veggies.

5:30 p.m. — I spend 60 minutes on my walking pad, 35 minutes on my portable elliptical, and 20 minutes on a Sweat app arm workout. I love not having to leave the house to work up a good sweat!

7:30 p.m. — After I shower and shampoo, I use the K18 Leave-In Molecular Repair Hair Mask, which I recently bought at 15% off during a Sephora sale. After it sits for four minutes, I add L’ange Hair Dream Cream to my hair to condition it. I fell out of the habit of taking care of myself once we started fertility treatments, since infertility is generally mentally and physically exhausting. I’m trying to pamper myself during this break!

8 p.m. — Neither C. nor I feel like cooking, so we order dinner from a wings place ($66.20 including tip). After dinner, we put on She’s The Man because I’m in the mood for something upbeat with a bit of girl power. I put on a face sheet mask and pretend to scare C., while C. pretends to be scared. It’s a little thing, but I love how stupid we can be together. $66.20

9 p.m. — My side hustle is planning some upcoming marketing campaigns, so I review them and brainstorm any additional opportunities. Afterward, I check out my dad’s Amazon wish list, which my family asked him to create for his birthday. Even though my family makes gift-giving as easy as possible, my dad has yet to add anything (long live male stereotypes). I start shopping for myself (long live female stereotypes) and add things to carts without purchasing yet.

10 p.m. — C. and I get in bed and talk about my upcoming birthday. We want to visit Portugal for it, so we talk through what the fertility treatment schedule might look like at that point. Most clinics prefer to plan around your natural cycle, so your treatment calendar starts on Cycle Day 1 of your period — whenever that is. We decide to see what refundable flights and hotels we can get using our credit card points. Luckily we have two international airports within a two-hour drive!

8:30 a.m. — C. has an early work call, so I get dressed (the WFH version of a mullet — ratty sweats on bottom, L.L. Bean pullover on top), empty the dishwasher, grab a yogurt, and do Duolingo before logging into work.

11:30 a.m. — I’m low on prenatal vitamins and fertility supplements (CoQ10 and vitamin D), so I use my lunch time to walk to a nearby store to stock up before some upcoming travel ($74.90). We plan to do at least one more IVF egg retrieval, and vitamin D and CoQ10 are supposed to improve egg quality. CoQ10 also helps with sperm, so I pick up some for C., too. Since infertility is pretty evenly split into three causes (⅓ unexplained, ⅓ female factor, and ⅓ male factor), we feel fortunate that nothing so far indicates cause for concern with my eggs, but we’re willing to do anything that might improve our chances. I “research” infertility pretty extensively online (aka search Reddit) and discuss every suggestion I see (no matter how wacky) with our doctor. $74.90

12:30 p.m. — I check the mail and see a scary “past due” bill of $182.40 to the anesthesiologist from the egg retrieval… Which I thought I already paid! I call in a panic and confirm the bill had already been scheduled to be sent when I made the payment. C. and I have chosen to view IVF as a blessing made possible through God (after partnering with our doctor to design a treatment plan that addressed our ethical concerns and the Church’s teachings) — but that does not apply to our clinic’s billing department! The clinic initially told me our health insurance plan covered everything, but we later discovered it does not. For one egg retrieval, we paid around $3,000 out of pocket on things like the medications to stimulate my follicles to grow as many eggs as possible. I do read enough infertility forums to at least know that even if it could be better, it could also be worse. But as a pro-capitalist girly, it’s maddening that the American healthcare system is so corrupted, inefficient, and confusing.

1 p.m. — I meet with one of my direct reports about her progress and career development, then quickly make and eat a PB&J before my next call.

4:30 p.m. — I have a weekly 30-minute call for my side hustle to discuss recent performance and upcoming campaigns. Afterwards, I log back into work to finalize a report and prep for tomorrow’s meetings.

8 p.m. — C. makes pasta, salad, and garlic bread. I do the dishes then look up respite care in our state to see what we’d need to do to qualify. We always planned to adopt or foster once we had firsthand parenting experience, but since that’s taking years longer than expected, I’ve been thinking we could at least provide respite care in the meantime. C. has noticed our Roomba keeps getting caught on cords, so he orders a cord organizer to lift them out of the path. $22.45

9 p.m. — I work out for 45 minutes on the elliptical, then shower and get in bed. C. gives me a massage.

8 a.m. — I wake up to an email confirmation for a $25 payment — I forgot I’d set up a recurring monthly payment to support a friend’s artwork. I get dressed (college sweatpants with a Gap Factory long-sleeve shirt and J. Crew Factory vest) and eat some yogurt with granola. $25

10 a.m. — I’m onboarding a new hire, so we have a virtual call to go over our strategy, platforms, and processes.

12:30 p.m. — C. and I usually eat lunch at different times, but today I make us grilled cheese sandwiches and cut up two apples with peanut butter.

4 p.m. — C. runs to the grocery store for a few things and also buys some staple items for our church, which collects groceries for a food bank every week. It’s his turn to pay for groceries ($139.73), and he also picks up dry cleaning he dropped off last week ($26.95). He comes back with Reese’s Cups for me, my favorite! $166.68

5 p.m. — While texting a friend that I’m tired, she responds, “Just wait until you have kids.” I know what she means, but all I’ve done for years now is wait to have kids. So I do what I always do when infertility gets me down: I set my timer for five minutes for a good cry. After, I laugh-react to the text, turn my phone on Do Not Disturb, and set it down. Approximately 45 seconds later, I pick my phone back up to google success stories from infertile couples and how to handle all the insensitive comments. Eventually I end up on Instagram, where I donate $50 to a friend’s fundraiser toward multiple sclerosis. $50

6 p.m. — C. and I recently started acupuncture for infertility. Even if it turns out it doesn’t actually improve fertility, I nonetheless appreciate having time blocked off to relax, since my brain is never not thinking about trying to get pregnant (as this diary makes evident). The sessions are $109 each for 45 minutes. $218

7 p.m. — We pick up Chick-fil-A on the way home, since neither of us wants to cook at this point, even though we’re trying to eat healthy (you know why). I know I said I’m willing to do anything to conceive, but I love fried food too much to give it up entirely. $32.62

8:30 p.m. — I’m feeling a bit bummed out, so I engage in some retail therapy. I make final decisions on my online carts from earlier this week: I order sweaters from Loft ($94.71), lipstick from NARS ($30.03), and holiday clothing and activewear from Old Navy ($135.35), using sales or discount codes. $260.09

9:30 p.m. — C. puts on Forgetting Sarah Marshall and we watch it while I walk on my walking pad for 60 minutes. We take a shower then get in bed.

8 a.m. — Double payday for me! My paycheck is early because of the weekend, and my consulting invoice is processed today. I transfer $1,000 to my savings and $2,000 (the previous month’s side hustle invoice) to our joint savings, then put aside my portion of rent. Our HYSA interest (technically passive income?) also hits today ($416.38). I manually update our account balances in my financial spreadsheet (which I prefer over an app that syncs with our accounts). Our current annual spending is roughly $120,000, so our FIRE number is $3 million, which, based on a 4% annual withdrawal rate, would provide $120,000 annually. With a projected interest rate of 7% to account for inflation, we’re on track to retire at 65. However, I know our expenses will change as our family grows; I’d like to retire early; and I have anxiety (when do I not?) about health issues as older parents or supporting C.’s family. I also want to be able to be generous. So I’m aiming for at least $6 million but ideally $10 million.

12 p.m. — While I’m eating lunch, C. comes in to tell me his manager plans to promote him. I tell him we’ll have to celebrate him!

6 p.m. — I wrap up work and start on tasks for my side hustle while waiting for C. to finish work.

7 p.m. — We decide on frozen pizza for dinner, so I hop on my elliptical until it’s done. I make a salad and pour wine to go with the pizza.

10 p.m. — We put on Hitch because my husband loves Will Smith and talk about planning a trip to NYC. C. falls asleep halfway through, so I scroll social media. After I see three pregnancy announcements, I set the timer. I think about how some couples conceive so easily compared to all the things we have to do and then impulsively deactivate my Instagram account. I was already feeling bitter about the way my feed feels overwhelmed by people posting cute things with their kids, so deactivating at least for a little while will be mentally healthy. Eventually I wake C. up and we both get in bed.

9 a.m. — My period is a few days late, when I’m always very regular, and I’m delulu enough to hope some premenstrual symptoms might actually be early pregnancy symptoms. So, even though I know my egg retrieval surely threw off my cycle, I use a pregnancy test. After all, miracle pregnancies have happened before! Unfortunately, the test is negative. Since my period must be close, I pull out my period panties, which I bought after learning tampons can leave abrasions and shed fibers, and throwing away pads every month started feeling wasteful.

9:30 a.m. — Every Saturday, C. picks up breakfast sandwiches. While we eat, we read AITA posts to each other. Infertility is emotionally challenging and can be hard on relationships, so we’re both conscientious about staying connected to each other — and AITA posts are a good way to discuss how we would handle such a situation, to improve our communication and conflict resolution. It’s kind of like free couples’ therapy with the fun bonus of providing both drama and the opportunity to judge other people! $17.77

10:30 a.m. — All the church drive gifts I ordered have arrived, and I wrap them since tomorrow is the last day to drop them off. I decline C.’s help because I do not approve of the way gifts look (hideous) when he wraps them. I end up not having enough wrapping paper for the toddler table set, though, so he runs out to get me more. $8.95

11:30 a.m. — I get the sudden urge to clean our bedroom and en suite bathroom. But halfway through I lose steam and find myself surrounded by mess. I went from Frank the Tank (“a pretty nice little Saturday”) to Gob Bluth: I’ve made a huge mistake. So I take a (very) long break before tackling the rest. I mark these tasks as complete on the Tody app and admire how tidy everything is!

3 p.m. — I edit a report for my side hustle and then go on a 5-mile run with my podcast while C. runs some errands. We bought one car after we left DC, but we’re debating purchasing a second one for C. since our current car isn’t conducive to children and we’ll likely both need one once children arrive (if only wishful thinking were enough, right?). C. goes to test drive the car he wants and takes a return to J. Crew Factory for me (and buys himself a sweater while he’s there). $67.84

5 p.m. — We decide to go out to dinner to celebrate C., so he makes a 7:30 p.m. reservation while I shower. We don’t have much of a social life here compared to DC, but it’s been a blessing because infertility makes me extremely isolationist, where the only person I want to be around is my husband. During that Sephora sale, I bought a Dyson Airwrap that I’m still figuring out, but I manage it well enough tonight. Makeup routine is Pat McGrath foundation (since Dior discontinued its Airflash Spray, a decision for which I will never forgive them), BareMinerals setting powder, NARS blush, Stila eyeliner, and Maybelline mascara, with MAC lipstick. I put on a white Quince sweater with a red plaid J. Crew Factory skirt and J. Crew peacoat.

7 p.m. — Before dinner, we stop by a store to get our final church drive gift (the gift card), since the cards here are sealed to protect against scammers stealing the card info. I put $100 on the card. ($106.95 including activation fee and taxes). $106.95

7:30 p.m. — Since we’re celebrating, we splurge on a steakhouse. We order escargot and shrimp cocktail to start, lamb chops (him) and filet mignon (me), and a glass of wine for both of us. I’m so proud of my husband, he has worked so hard to make it where he is! I know this Money Diary is basically an Infertility Diary, but I just know he’d be such a good dad and I’d be thrilled if our kids are just like him! $282.10

10 p.m. — The liquor store nearby is closed by the time we finish dinner, so we go to a 24/7 Walmart for two bottles of cabernet and dessert (Reese’s Cups) for me. At home, we open one bottle and play Mario Kart on C.’s very old N64 before bed. $50.11

7 a.m. — I get ready for church, which is a bit of a drive away. I don’t have time for a meltdown over how my clothes don’t fit me after fertility treatments that didn’t even make me pregnant, so I pull on last night’s sweater but a different (navy) J. Crew Factory skirt. We bring the groceries and gifts to church; at the end of Mass, our priest announces the church has collected enough presents or gift cards for 2,000 families! It’s a nice reminder that people do help each other. ($20 in the collection plate.) $20

10:15 a.m. — We always get bagels after church. In the car, we discuss our priest’s homily, which was about sharing with those in need. Since the car C. wants to buy is $25,000 more than our current one, C. feels conflicted that we shouldn’t spend that on ourselves. We don’t come to a final decision, though we agree to decide soon, before any tariffs raise prices. $8.40

12 p.m. — I go for a 4-mile run and admire how some homeowners have designed their yards with things like trinkets and gardens. As I get older, the more I appreciate the communal aspect of a neighborhood and things like how people present their homes — I think it creates a sense of community that brings joy to both themselves and those around them, and I love seeing what people love enough to display.

1 p.m. — I shower. C. is finishing up his laundry. We have separate hampers because I prefer to do my own and hang-dry as much as possible. Once he’s done, I start mine, since I still hadn’t unpacked my suitcase (gross and embarrassing, I know) from our post-egg retrieval trip to St Lucia.

8 p.m. — I make salmon, baked potatoes, and salad for dinner. Then we watch one of our favorite shows, Modern Family. I’ve started really appreciating my comfort shows and movies through all the fertility stuff.

10 p.m. — I’m in bed thinking through the likely schedule for our next egg retrieval based on my likely cycle. Then I start thinking how broke 26-year-old me would never believe I’m happy with my finances or career. During infertility, it’s easy to focus on what’s going wrong, but writing this diary reminded me I’ve come a long way from returning cans for gas money or calculating the cost of meals. And hopefully someday I’ll be lying here thinking how thankful I am for our baby!