Best $500 You Can Spend for a More Organized Life

05-06-2025

Getting truly organized is about more than buying cute bins for storage or downloading apps that never get opened. It's about cutting friction, the time lost looking for things, the stress of clutter, the tasks that pile up and fall through the cracks. All things that add up fast. A smart $500 investment can fix what's actually broken.
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And whether the chaos lives in the closet, the garage or the calendar, these six upgrades can offer relief that lasts longer than another temporary coffee-fueled clean-out.
A budget of $500 can transform a closet from a black hole into an organized space. Adjustable shelves, pull-out drawers and hanging bars replace wasted space and broken hangers. A full, custom remodel can run into thousands, but brands like Ikea offer customizable kits that deliver order without the custom price tag.
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Decluttering and home organization can often seem a monumental task, but working with a pro can make a huge difference. The average cost of a professional organizer is $526, according to HomeAdvisor, enough for a focused session to tackle problem zones — pantries, bedrooms, home offices. It's more than just tidying; professional organizers build systems that keep working after they leave.
For garages that are more like dumping grounds than useable spaces, $500 can get a variety of wall organization solutions, including pegboards, tracks, shelving and stackable bins. OmniWallUSA.com is known for its garage wall kits at the $200 to $500 price range. Hang bikes, store tools and (finally) clear the floor, so no more weekend scavenger hunts for a missing drill or extension cord.
With so much daily life now reliant on the digital, scattered apps, overflowing inboxes and lost passwords soon add up to making life more chaotic. Pair a family organizer like Life360 (between $149.99 and $249.99 per year) with premium storage such as Google One or iCloud and a password manager like Password1. The result, for around $500 or less, is a stack that builds a single system for schedules, files and shared tasks.
A smarter kitchen doesn't necessarily need renovation, sometimes all that's needed is a rethink. Cabinet organization systems, wall storage, drawer inserts, fridge organizers and even labels can turn chaos into flow. With $500, the whole space can be streamlined and dinnertimes will be less stressful. Ikea is a great starting point for a good kitchen revamp.
Depending on location, professional hourly cleaning costs between $300 and $700 for a month of weekly cleans, according to HomeAdvisor. That's enough for a solid reset, because clean surfaces make it easier to get into a better routine, with no more trying to organize around dirt, dust or grime.
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This article originally appeared on GOBankingRates.com: Best $500 You Can Spend for a More Organized Life

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IKEA Just Launched the "Smartest" Collection — And This is the One Thing I'm Buying ASAP

Yahoo

12 hours ago

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IKEA Just Launched the "Smartest" Collection — And This is the One Thing I'm Buying ASAP

This article may contain affiliate links that Yahoo and/or the publisher may receive a commission from if you buy a product or service through those links. If you've been wanting to dive into the smart home lifestyle, but haven't done so because you just don't like the way all those techy devices look, I've got good news for you. Just months after announcing the end of its SONOS speaker collaboration, IKEA's popular smart home lineup is getting a major overhaul — and you can buy one of these aesthetically pleasing yet affordable new devices right now. Get ready to go way beyond KALLAX hacks and into fully integrated living. IKEA confirmed it'll be releasing 20 new offerings over the next few months in a press release on Wednesday, July 9. Fans can look forward to a new generation of Matter-over-Thread-compatible sensors, smart lights, remotes, and, most importantly, speakers, that will roll out in the coming months. (For the uninitiated, Matter and Thread are smart home standards. Matter 'is the language that smart home devices speak,' while Thread 'is the network they use to communicate,' per For the non-techy folks, this can all sound like confusing tech babble. But it's not — IKEA says this move will make its smart home products easier to use for anyone, so you can simply 'plug and play.' The best part? The IKEA DIRIGERA smart hub now allows you to connect your IKEA tech with other branded products (such as Apple, Amazon, Google, and Samsung) that you already own, making your entire home's smart system much more integrated and seamless. Drumming up the excitement early, IKEA gave buyers a preview of its brand-new smart home lineup by releasing its NATTBADD Bluetooth Speaker on July 9 — and the retro yet futuristic design costs less than $50. IKEA $50 Buy Now Despite its futuristic appearance, the new NATTBADD Bluetooth Speaker is designed to look like a vintage radio while featuring all the state-of-the art capabilities that you'd expect from your Bluetooth speaker. Available for just $49.99, the NATTBADD Bluetooth Speaker comes in either a canary yellow (my personal favorite colorway) as well as a black or nude hue depending on the vibe of your home. Shaped with a half-moon design on top and a square base, the compact speaker won't take up much space with its 7-inch height, nearly 5-inch width, and just under 4-inch length. However, the simplicity of the design (there are just two buttons in the front) is misleading, because you can simply tap a button to zero in on the Spotify Tap functionality, or opt to go into multi-speaker mode to connect to other NATTBAD speakers around your space. IKEA fans who are looking for a speaker with a little pizzazz will want to wait out for the BLOMPRAKT Speaker with Light, which will be rolling out in October. The table speaker looks like a light blue sci-fi-inspired lamp at first glance, but you can also use it to play your favorite music without taking up any extra space on your desk or bedside table. In addition to the BLOMPRAKT Speaker with Light's release in October, IKEA will be rolling out a new line of speakers in collaboration with Swedish designer Tekla Severin in January 2026. IKEA of Sweden's David Granath told The Verge that the company will also be releasing new product categories next January and April. We Used Our New 'Room Plan' Tool to Give This Living Room 3 Distinct Styles — See How, Then Try It Yourself The Design Changemakers to Know in 2025 Create Your Own 3D Room Plan with Our New Tool Sign up for Apartment Therapy's Daily email newsletter to receive our favorite posts, tours, products, and shopping guides in your inbox.

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IKEA Just Launched the "Smartest" Collection — And This is the One Thing I'm Buying ASAP

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2 days ago

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A Week In Seattle On A $139,967 Salary

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 dollar. Today: a grant officer who makes $139,967 per year and who spends some of her money this week on egg freezing medication. If you'd like to submit your own Money Diary, you can do so via our online form. We pay $150 for each published diary. Apologies but we're not able to reply to every email. Content warning: This diary details fertility struggles. Occupation: Grant officer Industry: Federal government Age: 35 Location: Seattle, WA Salary: $139,967 (government job) and up to $7,200 (side hustle #1) and then also up to $67,200 (side hustle #2). Both of these side hustles are new, I got them to help me weather impending unemployment. (Just a quick note about my salary and why I've only listed my main income: The side hustle amounts are the maximum amounts afforded through my contracts, but payout depends on how many hours I work, which is rarely the full amount each week. Basically, for the purposes of this diary, I don't want to inflate my salary too much. I'm also going to be dropping side hustle #2 soon.) Assets: Checking account: enough to cover monthly credit card bills; HYSA (3.75% APY): $14,796; retirement: $212,905 ($196,329 in my Thrift Savings Plan, the retirement plan for federal employees, which is a combination of Roth and traditional 401(k), and $16,576 in a Roth IRA); car value: $26,000; home value: $940,300. Debt: Beyond the mortgage that my parents and I share ($486,682 left), I am debt free. Paycheck Amount (biweekly): $3,123.38 from work; up to $300 from side hustle #1 (depending on hours); up to $4,800 from side hustle #2 (depending on hours). Pronouns: She/her Monthly Expenses Housing Costs: My parents and I co-own a house. I pay $2,750 of our $3,760 a month mortgage. Our arrangement is this: My parents paid a hefty down payment to get the monthly mortgage low enough to be within reach for me to pay. I pay as much as the mortgage as I can, and they cover the rest. We meticulously track what we each put into the house, and will break out any proceeds from a future sale proportionately. For them, it's a way to grow their own money (and have a place to crash when they visit) while helping me build wealth. I hope to be able to cover the full monthly mortgage payment someday soon, whether through Airbnb income once we finish the basement, joint income through marriage, or making more money in my next gig… Whichever comes first ;-) Loan Payments: $0 Retirement: $472 (in anticipation of being laid off, I lowered my contribution to meet my agency's 5% match criteria and no more; this used to be $1500). Health Insurance: $174 Dental Insurance: $28 Cell Phone: $40 Water/Sewage/Trash: $110 Electricity: $100 Wifi: $55 Spotify: $13.23 Google Storage: $2.11 iCloud: $3.17 NYT Subscription: $4.09 Egg-Freezing Storage: $70 Ridwell: $18 Union Dues: $34 Strength-Training App: $20 Charitable Contributions: $500 (combination of church, local food bank, and my parents' non-profit) Savings: $800 Car Insurance: $953 (every six months). Annual Expenses Home Insurance: $786 (my parents pay this). Prime Subscription: $139 Alaska Airlines Credit Card: $95 State Park Pass: $30 National Park Pass: $80 Vehicle Tax/Registration: $458 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? There was definitely an unspoken expectation. Doing well in school was always given a high value in my family, and I embraced that value. I was a very studious kid and put a lot of pressure on myself to excel in school. For college, I got a full-ride community service scholarship at what would have otherwise been a very expensive private university. I also received a full-ride scholarship through my local Rotary Club to attend grad school abroad. For both, my parents covered housing, books, food, and any other needs I had while in school. Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s) educate you about finances? I cannot remember explicit money conversations growing up, but I can see now as an adult that my own philosophy around money certainly flows from my parents'. We were upper middle class, had everything we needed, but my parents were never flashy with the money they had in the way that some people in our area were. They were frugal in funny ways. For instance, my dad is famous for his 'uniform': white polo and khakis. He has a few pairs of both but otherwise doesn't wear anything else. And my mom will sit patiently on the phone for hours to navigate things like erroneous health care bills just to save a few bucks. On the flip side, they were also very generous. My dad always kept cash on hand to give to anyone who asked; they often treated our friends to meals or experiences; they hosted big, abundant meals for family; and, on top of their full-time day jobs, they started a non-profit that does solar energy projects for hospitals and schools around the world. If they spent big money — like to purchase one of the early hybrid-technology cars in the early 2000s — it was for something that flowed from their values, like environmentalism or education, or on experiences that enhanced our quality time as a family. What was your first job and why did you get it? I started babysitting for neighbors around 12, but I got my first hourly job at 14 scooping custard at a Midwest burger chain. The job was less about financial relief for my parents and more about my getting workforce experience and staying occupied in the summer. Did you worry about money growing up? I wouldn't say I worried about money growing up; my parents provided us everything we needed and more. But I was aware that we didn't have as much as other people in our social circles. My brothers and I attended Catholic school K-12, which is not cheap, and so many of our friends were kids whose parents could also afford to send them to private school. My two best friends in grade school lived in legit mansions and had multiple vacation homes. I have a diary from 6th grade with multiple entries that toggle between jealousy for what my friends have and gratitude for what I have. So while I was never worried about my family's financial security, the question of 'What is enough?' bounced around in my head at a young age. Knowing more now about my parents' finances, I can see that my parents could have afforded more luxury and convenience, but chose to be relatively thrifty, generous, and values-driven with their resources. I admire this approach and try to practice it in my own life. Do you worry about money now? I do, especially with the level of job insecurity in the federal government right now (more on that in my diary below). After the November election, I started to dial back expenses, lower my retirement contributions, track my monthly budget more closely, and seek a side hustle, anticipating the layoffs to come. Even outside of these unpredictable times, I'm always worried that I'm not saving as much as I should (for retirement, for emergencies, etc.). At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net? At 23, when I moved to DC after grad school for my first job. If I ever got in a bind, my parents would definitely be able and willing to help out, but I don't ever want to get to the point that I need to ask. Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain. When I moved to DC, my parents gifted me a car that they had been wanting to get rid of. They also bought me the car I have now a couple years ago (which cost $30,000). This past year, my mom gifted me close to $30,000 to cover three egg freezing treatments. Apart from really wanting me to give her a grandchild some day, she went through IVF back in the 1980s to get pregnant with me, so is very invested in this journey for me. And as I mentioned above, my parents and I co-own a house that I would've never been able to afford on my own. I'm incredibly grateful for my parents' generosity and know I'm super lucky. Day One: Monday 7 a.m. — I wake up to my alarm and when I un-silence my phone, I see that I have over 100 text messages from East Coast colleagues. About a month ago, DOGE cut a lot of positions at my agency (including mine) and terminated many of our grants overnight. These developments happened so quickly and chaotically that it has been hard to get reliable information on what's happening, and our text thread provides some clarity and solidarity. 7:30 a.m. — After morning skincare routine (plain water rinse, Honest Beauty Vitamin C serum, Purito Seoul face lotion, and Trader Joe's face sunscreen), I make some breakfast (Bob's Red Mill protein oats, a dollop of plain Greek yogurt, cashews, chia seeds, diced Granny Smith apples, cinnamon, a drizzle of maple syrup and a sprinkling of flaky sea salt), take my morning supplements, and give myself my morning shots. I'm on my second week of stimulation meds, preparing for egg retrieval and freezing next week. This is my third cycle, so I can mix the meds and poke myself on autopilot at this point. 8 a.m. — While I'm eating breakfast, I check email and see that the consulting job I'm about to start (side hustle #2) has agreed to the hourly rate I requested, which is much higher than they originally offered. This was my first experiment in 'asking for what I'm worth' and I am blown away it worked! I'm on paid leave from my government job for two months before my position is eliminated. I will receive some severance and annual leave payout, but it won't last me long. Having what could functionally be a 40 hour a week temp gig if I need it is a huge relief. 8:45 a.m. — Drive to my monitoring appointment with my fertility doctor. The clinic is in a suburb of Seattle and the drive takes 45 minutes with traffic, so I'm grateful for the flexibility in my schedule at the moment. My doc is pleased with the interval growth (i.e., the rate at which my follicles are growing) she sees on the ultrasound. I only have about 11 follicles that look like they will be big enough for retrieval, which is on par with my last two cycles. I have relatively low AMH for my age, so my body doesn't have as many follicles to recruit. In my last two cycles, only eight of the dozen-ish follicles had eggs that were retrievable, and seven of the eight eggs retrieved were mature enough to freeze, so I have 14 eggs on ice at this point. The stats say that you want about 20 to have a strong chance of having one baby in the future, so here I am, on cycle #3, trying for that magic number. 10 a.m. — I get home and listen to Ezra Klein talk about our country's constitutional crisis while I walk around the neighborhood. I am not allowed to vigorously exercise while on stim meds, which is hard for a gal whose mental health depends on running. Long podcast walks in an unusual spate of Seattle sunshine have been a saving grace. 10:30 a.m. — My boss (who still has a job) calls to check in on my job hunt and shares how bleak it feels to be one of the only ones left in the crater of the bomb DOGE set off. 11 a.m. — I take stock of my inventory of jobs to apply for this week and send LinkedIn messages to a few old acquaintances. Government people don't really use LinkedIn much, so my networking skills are rusty, but I'm trying. 12:30 p.m. — I eat a delicious mix of leftover potato salad from the Easter feast I attended yesterday, chicken salad, arugula salad, a clementine, and a handful of my kryptonite, Trader Joe's chocolate pretzels. While I'm eating, I see that based on today's lab results, my doctor wants me to order more meds. I submit a payment to the pharmacy (my mom is paying for half of my medication costs this round, which she has already covered, so this one's on me). I take my lunchtime supplements and struggle through the daily NYT games. $894 1:30 p.m. — I pack up some snacks and head to the office of my church a few blocks away. After the election in November, I saw the writing on the wall and took a job as an operations coordinator at my church (side hustle #1). This comes with the perk of getting to use their beautiful light-filled office space whenever I want. I'm much more disciplined at the job hunt in this environment than at home. I complete three job applications and get a call from a job connection I made a couple weeks ago at a construction company where my friend works. This connection and I really hit it off, and he tells me that he will soon have a position opening that might be a good fit for me. I'm excited at the sound of it, but also… Construction?! Not at all aligned with my public sector/non-profit do-gooder career thus far. I have a minor identity crisis after the call. 5 p.m. — Go to my acupuncture appointment. I've been doing fertility acupuncture to increase blood flow to my ovaries to hopefully improve the quality of the eggs retrieved. During the session, I have a delightful nap on the table. I pay my copay; insurance covers the rest. $25 6 p.m. — Stop by Trader Joe's ($6.57) and Safeway ($10.28) across the street to pick up some odds and ends I forgot on my weekend shopping run (chocolate pudding, whipped cream cheese, microgreens, pita crackers). $16.85 7 p.m. — Cook one of my staple soups: coconut-ginger lentil soup with spinach. While that's simmering, I food prep some turkey burgers and roast some broccoli for the week. 8:30 p.m. — Finally sit down to eat a bowl of soup with toasted bread, adding a dollop of sour cream and microgreens on top to feel fancy. I nearly choke on my food because I am bawling my eyes out during the finale of From Scratch. 9 p.m. — Administer evening shots, put compost bin and Ridwell items out for pickup tomorrow, and water my house plants. 9:30 p.m. — I do my nighttime skincare routine (La Roche-Posay face wash and Cocokind retinol and moisturizer), read Leif Enger's So Brave, Young and Handsome, and fall asleep by 10:15 p.m. Daily Total: $935.85 Day Two: Tuesday 7 a.m. — Wake up and listen to a morning meditation designed for people going through IVF, but it works just as well for egg freezing. This morning I visualize welcoming the hormones in as strange but friendly gardeners who tend to and prune my eggies for optimal growth. 7:30 a.m. — Turn on NPR on my kitchen radio while I do some morning chores: washing sheets, unloading the dishwasher, administering morning shots, taking supplements. I eat breakfast (carbon copy of yesterday) and read the latest issue of Bon Appetit magazine, earmarking a pork stir-fry I want to try. I then go on a short 'sensory walk'; something that a pop psychologist I like recommended to help decrease anxiety and regulate my nervous system. I am not allowed to 'think' on my walk, only notice as many things about the natural world as possible. This morning I notice that the lady across the street is selling succulents from her garden again and I break the 'no-thinking' rule to make a mental note to find her later and purchase something. 9 a.m. — Work on some tasks for my church job for a couple hours, mostly scheduling volunteers and purchasing things we're low on (all paid for with my work credit card). 11 a.m. — Break for lunch (more leftover potato salad, turkey burger, arugula salad, grapes, and chocolate pretzels), take mid-day supplements, play NYT games. My medication shipment arrives and I inspect and refrigerate the meds. 12 p.m. — Walk to the office space at church and hunker down for more job apps. 2:30 p.m. — Take a break to follow up with a plumbing company about lining my sewer. I live in a house built in the 1940s with an aging concrete sewer pipe that needs to be lined with plastic piping (a more expensive job than it seems like it should be) before it collapses on itself (an even more expensive job to repair). I snack on a protein bar and a clementine while I contemplate whether it's worth it to be a homeowner. 4:30 p.m. — As I leave the office, I get a notice that the audiobook Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art is ready to borrow from the library. I start listening on my walk home. 5 p.m. — I list a bunch of stuff on Marketplace, including a dresser I found on the side of the road and zhuzhed up a bit with round oversized drawer pulls. Someone messages immediately and agrees to buy it for $300, which makes me wonder whether furniture flipping could be side hustle #3?? I also see that someone responded to a post I made on my neighborhood's community blog asking for (free) help repairing a bluetooth speaker. I've had this dinky speaker for 10 years and it died out of nowhere last week. I figured there'd be a neighbor out there who might want to tinker with it! 6 p.m. — Eat a quick dinner (leftover soup, Trader Joe's crackers with guac, and a pudding with some peanut butter mixed in), take evening supplements, and head to the local beachfront park to meet up with a friend, A., and her baby, J. 7:15 p.m. — Another friend, L., joins. Hilariously, L. is wearing her wetsuit because she misinterpreted my text. I asked her to watch the sunset with me, she thought I asked her to swim at sunset with her. We both got into open-water swimming in the Puget Sound this winter, so this miscommunication is not totally out of the blue. We hang out until the sun sets behind the Olympic Mountains (the Pacific Northwest is freaking majestic, if you've never been). She does a plunge and I head home. 8:30 p.m. — Administer evening shots, do bedtime skincare routine, read, lights out by 10 p.m. Daily Total: $0 Day Three: Wednesday 6:15 a.m. — Wake up, make my usual breakfast, administer morning shots, take my supplements, and pack up my skis. I learned how to ski this winter and rented gear instead of buying to make sure I liked it. The rental shop is 30 minutes further than my doctor's appointment, so I decide to make the trip after my appointment this morning. 7:30 a.m. — Arrive at appt. Ultrasound is normal. Get my blood drawn by my favorite angel nurse. 8:30 a.m. — I fill up with just enough gas to get me out and back from North Bend. There's a gas station near my house that has the cheapest gas I've been able to find in town, so I don't want to overpay for a full tank. I listen to Breath while driving. So far, I'm learning that mouth breathing is really bad for you. I concentrate on breathing through my nose the rest of the drive. $8.73 9 a.m. — I arrive at the coffee shop that is attached to the ski rental place. The shop doesn't open until 10 a.m., so I order a decaf cortado and start responding to an intense family text thread to coordinate a trip with my parents and brothers and their kids to my SIL's family's lakehouse in Arkansas. I send my résumé to an old college friend so he can do an internal referral for a job I've been eyeballing. $5.09 11 a.m. — I return my skis and drive an hour home. I chat on the phone with a colleague who still has her job the whole drive. 12 p.m. — Eat lunch (dregs of potato salad, turkey burger, broccoli, microgreens, crackers and guac, and a glass of Trader Joe's orange-peach-mango juice), take lunchtime supplements, and play NYT games. 12:30 p.m. — Go on a sensory walk. 1 p.m. — Do an intense session of personal grocery planning for next week and for a church event on Sunday. I'm in charge of building a massive charcuterie table to feed 150 adults and kids. I already have most of the materials, but will need to do one last Costco run tomorrow. 2 p.m. — Chat with someone who I found on LinkedIn who has the same role at a company at which I applied for a job. She gives me super helpful insight into the role (and as she does, I feel the energy drain from me… Something my career coach told me to pay attention to!) and offers to recommend me to the hiring manager. 3 p.m. — Spend an hour preparing a cover letter and résumé for a job app, only to find out that it isn't posted anymore. I send a message to a random recruiter at the company who I found on LinkedIn to see if there's any chance I could still submit. Shoot your shot. 4 p.m. — Give my car a much needed vacuum, spray down my mats in the backyard, and chat with two neighbors who are also dinking around outside. 5:45 p.m. — Meet up with my partner, M., to head to our biweekly couple's counseling session. M. and I have been dating for two years and are starting to have more serious conversations about the future. We started going to counseling a couple of months ago for some help with specific dynamics and communication patterns that we both want to be smoother before we decide to take the next step. I order salads for both of us through my Sweetgreen app on the way so they're ready for pickup when we get there. M. venmos me for what he thinks is half, $15, even though these salads cost an obscene $17 each. I swallow the $2 extra. I love you, Sweetgreen, but damn. $20.19 6:30 p.m. — We eat our salads and head to our appt. 7 p.m. — We meet with our therapist and work on rehearsing a recent interaction in a more productive way. My therapist charges me for our session, since my insurance allows me to submit for reimbursement. We've been receiving roughly $150 back for every $250 we spend per session. But until I get my reimbursement check in the mail, I pay the full amount and M. venmos me for his half. $125 8 p.m. — We drive back from our session, chatting about what was helpful from the session and what wasn't. We're both still undecided about whether we jive with our therapist, but want to give her a fair shake. 9 p.m. — I fill up with gas at my cheap(er) gas station, administer evening shots, shower, nighttime skincare, and am asleep by 10:15 p.m. $62.81 Daily Total: $221.82 Day Four: Thursday 6:15 a.m. — Wake up an hour before my alarm. Listen to another IVF meditation. This time I visualize my follicles vibrating and glowing with energy. 7 a.m. — Turn on NPR to catch me up on the day's news, make my usual breakfast, take morning supplements, administer shots, and pack up a cooler to haul groceries throughout the day. 8 a.m. — Head toward my fertility acupuncture appt. I'm going to a different acupuncturist today because my regular acupuncturist is visiting family in China. The new acupuncturist's office is right next to one of the better budget grocery stores in Seattle. My neighborhood doesn't have one, so I always take advantage when I'm close. Next week, I'm planning to take a meal to a friend who is solo-parenting while her husband is abroad and to host my next-door neighbor so we can talk cost/logistics of dealing with the shared portion of our sewer line, so I'm going to make one big throwback pot of (wait for it…) homemade beef stroganoff for both. I get egg noodles, ranch seasoning, and sour cream for the stroganoff, and other staples (tuna packets, brown rice, arugula, tomatoes, bell pepper, cucumbers, apples, clementines). $26.92 9 a.m. — Have my acupuncture appt. It's so interesting to see how different acupuncturists practice. This one leads me in a guided meditation while I'm on the table. It's pleasant. I pay my copay. $25 10:30 a.m. — Drop off some jeans at Madewell so they can fix a broken zipper (I am always popping zippers, not sure why!). Thankfully this service is free. While I'm there, I try on some things. I am perpetually on the hunt for an everyday jean short, and I find it in their new summer line. They're perfect for my lanky legs and big booty, but $90 is pricey for jean shorts. I ask the store associate if there are any sales coming up — she says no, so I ask if federal employees get discounts. She feels bad for my/our situation and offers 15% off. I also use a store credit from a return long ago, bringing the price down to a more reasonable amount. $41.25 11:30 a.m. — I need to post up somewhere to have a call with my career coach. When I found out I was getting laid off, I searched Google for 'free career coaching for Feds' and found so many people on LinkedIn offering pro bono services. I'm blown away by the kindness and solidarity. I land at a bagel sandwich spot with a great patio to soak up the sun. I get an everything bagel with salmon lox, veggie cream cheese, salmon roe, and pea shoots. The price tag makes me SO sad. You'd think that seafood would be cheaper in Seattle since we're so close to the source. $17.66 12 p.m. — My career coach cancels last minute, which I'd normally be annoyed by, but it's free, so I can't complain! I repurpose my time by ordering a decaf iced latte from the bakery that shares this patio and doing some research for an upcoming weekend away with M. A friend is lending us her family's cabin near Leavenworth, a quirky German town in the southern Cascade Mountains. I make a restaurant reservation, research trail runs, and find an outdoor spa that has hot tubs, saunas, and cold plunge pools. M. and I went to Japan last year and got very into public bath culture, and take advantage of anything resembling it in the States. $6.62 2 p.m. — I make a Costco run for the remaining charcuterie items for my church event (purchased on work credit card), and pick up some chicken meatballs for myself while I'm there. $14.99 3:30 p.m. — Unpack groceries at home and call my parents to discuss the sewer lining project. We decide that they will foot the $15,000 bill up front and I will reimburse them for half once I have a next job. For home maintenance things like this, we aspire to split costs in this way. 6 p.m. — Get ready and head to a fundraiser for a local non-profit that friends of M. and me are involved with. We chow down on a fajita bar and then bingo starts. The prize is a $500 gift card to one of the most untouchable restaurants in Seattle. I've always wanted to go, so I purchase more bingo cards than I was intending. We don't win, but our friends who just had a baby do, so we're happy they get to treat themselves to date night. $50 9 p.m. — Head home, administer evening shots, take nighttime supplements, read a page of my book before crashing at 10 p.m. Daily Total: $182.44 Day Five: Friday 6:15 a.m. — Wake up to my alarm and do a fertility meditation. 7 a.m. — Meet with Career Coach #2 (I'm open to all the free help I can get!). 8 a.m. — Administer shots, take vitamins, prepare my usual breakfast (but make it to-go) and hop in the car for an ultrasound/bloodwork appt. One of my toxic traits is eating meals while driving. Every New Year's, I commit to building more margin in between daily transitions, especially for meals, but I haven't cracked the code yet. It's not that I lose track of time, it's that I think I can get more done in the time allotted than is actually feasible. One friend calls me a 'time optimist'. 8:30 a.m. — See my doctor. Everything is still progressing as expected, with 11 or so follicles still looking viable. 9:45 a.m. — Get home, clean the house a bit, and do some lunch prep. My friend L. and her two-year-old A. are coming over for lunch. I make Mediterranean bowls for us, with white rice, chicken meatballs from Costco, a cucumber-red pepper-red onion medley, and TJ's tzatziki sauce. 11 a.m. — It's super nice outside, so we eat on my sunny patio. This is a new friend; we met through mutual friends who connected us because we're both from the same hometown. She feels homey and we have a lot to talk about, and get some pretty decent adult conversation in before her kid needs some attention. We float in and out of chatting about meaningful things and helping him count the number of rocks his dump truck unloads. 1:45 p.m. — My friend leaves, I clean up, and my energy zaps. The hormone meds are really taking it out of me. The theme of this week is give the body what it needs, so I lay down for a snooze. 3:30 p.m. — I walk to church to print songbooks for this week, and do several church admin tasks while I'm there. 6:30 p.m. — Printing done. I walk home, eat another soup dinner, administer shots and take supplements, and do some life admin. I book a haircut and regular maintenance for my car next week. Maintenance will be free because I bought a three-year maintenance package when I got my car in 2022. I thank my past self for her foresight. I also book a sauna and cold plunge session for after my procedure next week, which my naturopath recommended to help my body shed the extra hormones. There's a wood-fired barrel sauna on wheels that parks itself on a beach near my house so patrons can cycle in and out of the sauna and cold-plunging in the Puget Sound. I utilized this service HEAVILY during the winter, and it worked wonders to fend off the winter blues. I text a friend to see if she wants to join. I also sign up for a free trial at a local gym. I won't be able to run right after my procedure, but I'll be able to start doing gentle cardio, so just need access to an elliptical for about a week. 8:30 p.m. — I start watching Normal People. I have been very drawn to English and Irish dramas lately (Bad Sisters, Adolescence), so I'm hoping this will continue to scratch the itch. It does not disappoint. 10:30 p.m. — After a couple episodes, I do my nighttime routine and put myself to bed. Daily Total: $0 Day Six: Saturday 7:30 a.m. — I wake up to my alarm, do a fertility meditation, have my usual breakfast, congratulate myself for eating breakfast at my kitchen table, and hop in the car to go to my appointment. 9 a.m. — My follicles look good, but doc is a tad worried about my bloodwork. My LH (ovulation hormone) is spiking so she wants me to administer a medication that will keep me from ovulating prematurely. She decides we should retrieve on Monday. 9:45 a.m. — I pick up the ovulation blocker meds at a pharmacy around the corner. $48 10:15 a.m. — I drive back to Seattle. Mount Rainier comes into view as I drive over Lake Washington and it is pure magic. I have some time to kill before a shop I need to go to opens at 11 p.m. I call a friend, S., who lives nearby and see if she's home. She is, and tells me to come over. She makes tea and I get to hear about her and her family's recent trip to Bend, OR. I make a mental note to add Bend to my list of places to explore out here in the PNW. 11 a.m. — I go to a store in my neighborhood that sells bulk home goods by weight. You can bring your own containers or buy them in the store. Shopping here is part of my journey to reduce the amount of single-use plastics in my life. I need body lotion, and have the option of normal lotion or a lotion bar. I've never tried the bar, so I decide to give it a shot. $17.66 12 p.m. — I get home and make a lunch of arugula, farro and parm salad with a turkey burger on top. I administer my new meds and start an application for passport renewal. Mine expired last month, and M. and I have been talking about taking advantage of my funemployment to go somewhere, so I want to be ready. 2:30 p.m. — M. comes over and helps me stage my passport photo. We then head to my local waterfront park and go on a one-mile walk (about all my body can handle at this point) and talk and nap and snuggle in the sunshine at the beach. 6 p.m. — M. leaves and I head to my friend A.'s house for our weekly Sabbath meal. Sabbath is a new practice to me as of last fall, and it has been really lovely. I'm learning to see it as an invitation to slow down, refrain from work and engagement with technology and commerce, reflect on God's presence throughout my week, and delight in things that bring me joy. I try to practice it Saturday afternoon to Sunday afternoon, but even setting aside just Saturday evening has been a nice habit shift. The friend I do it with is single-momming by choice, so I'm in charge of making dinner at her place while she gets baby J. ready for bed. Tonight will be easy, because I'm feeding us leftover charity event fajitas. They both cheer me on as I administer my 'trigger' shot — the shot that will prepare my eggs for retrieval. My friend went through many rounds of IVF before J. came along, so she has been a wonderful companion throughout this process. 8 p.m. — We pray and eat and talk about our weeks and lives. 10 p.m. — I head home, do my bedtime routine, and crash. Daily Total: $65.66 Day Seven: Sunday 7:30 a.m. — I wake up, do meditation, make some licorice tea, and read in bed for an hour. 8 a.m. — I take my last shot, woohoo! I decide to celebrate by making Kodiak cake blueberry pancakes with chicken sausage and mango-peach-orange juice. It hits the spot. 10 a.m. — I drive to a coffee shop around the corner to conduct some business. I sell an alarm clock to someone on Facebook marketplace and drop off my broken speaker to the neighbor who has agreed to fix it. I love the informal and sharing economies. 11 a.m. — Back at home, I start to prep materials for the charcuterie board at church. I cut veggies, wash fruit, and slice cheese. 1:30 p.m. — I head to church to start to set up. I've never done this before, and perhaps ambitiously think that I can after watching a few YouTube videos. What I pull together turns out way better than I expected; humbly, it is a work of art. 4 p.m. — Church service. M. joins. 5:30 p.m. — After the service, folks graze and I get lots of compliments (and even a request to do this for pay at a baby shower!). Before M. leaves, we game-plan the transportation plan for my appointment, as he is my post-anesthesia designated driver. 7 p.m. — Come home, clean the kitchen, write some thank yous to my doctors and nurses for retrieval day tomorrow, and watch an episode of Normal People. 9 p.m. — I get hungry; the cheese board didn't quite cut it for dinner. I'm feeling protein-deprived, so I fry up a weird nightcap of chicken meatballs. 10 p.m. — I do my nighttime routine and settle in for bed. I set multiple alarms on multiple devices because I do not want to miss my wake-up for my procedure. I also remove my water bottle from my bedside table so I'm not tempted to drink it in the middle of the night and violate the empty-stomach surgery requirements. I fall asleep saying a little prayer that tomorrow goes well… Wish me luck! Daily Total: $0 The Breakdown Conclusion 'This was an abnormally spendy week due to the egg-freezing medication. My wallet and my schedule will appreciate the coming relief from egg freezing costs (medication, acupuncture, supplements, gas for appts). I'm noticing that I'm drinking coffee and eating out a bit more than I normally would, given the flexibility of my days while I'm on paid leave. As a budget foodie, I normally prefer to save restaurant money for a restaurant I really want to go to, not for casual food to eat on the go. Depending on how long my unemployment lasts, I may need to rein that in a bit. Otherwise, my spending this week was pretty normal.' And an update… 'Since I wrote this diary, a lot of life has happened! I had my egg retrieval, and the outcome was not good. My doc was only able to retrieve four eggs, which was incredibly disappointing for both of us. Her theory is that it might take my body more time than 'average' for the egg to release from the follicle wall in order to be retrieved, hence why I had so many 'blank' follicles. She felt so bad that she offered me a fourth cycle completely free, which, as you've seen from the price tag, is so generous! I've already completed that fourth cycle, and we were able to get eight eggs this time, so I now have 26 eggies in the freezer and I'm content with that :) I also got a full-time job offer from that construction company (starting salary of $160,000 and a $5,000 signing bonus), and I decided to take it. I'm scared about what such a hard, weird pivot in my career will mean, and whether I'll ever be able to find my way back to public sector work, but I'm trusting that it'll be ok. Because I'll have a full-time job, I'm planning to drop side hustle #2 soon. I was able to negotiate a start date in the fall, which means I'll get to have a mini sabbatical this summer to rest and travel, and I couldn't be more pumped. Thanks for following along!'

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