Flyby Tries: A Week of No Spend

Under most metrics, I wouldn’t consider myself an out-of-control spender. Or even a slightly extravagant one. I probably spend money only about twice a week on average: once every week or two weeks to feed the beast (read: my perpetual but often starved Jefe’s craving) and slightly more often to grab a quick meal via Board Plus (not real money) or one of the vending machines in the Science Center (Crimson Cash and therefore not real money).

Still, even if I don’t spend often, every time I am forced to contend with the concept of money, I feel a little bit guilty. Campus and the Square are so, so expensive — and feel doubly so when I’ve left Massachusetts for a minute — so every expense feels like an extravagance… even when said extravagance is a single granola bar. Plus, most of my expenses feel like they could be avoided with slightly better planning (i.e. waking up five minutes earlier for dhall breakfast). So, in the spirit of self improvement and personal growth, I decided to try not spending anything for a week. (Let’s ignore the fact that I was informally dared to do so for the purpose of writing an article; this was totally an entirely personal decision made not for the purpose of cannibalizing my life for content.)

Honestly, my week of no spend felt shockingly mundane. (Again, I don’t actually spend that much in a given week.) That’s not to say that it wasn’t a challenge, though, or that I didn’t miss the privilege of spending. The thrill of treating myself. The joy of tapping my card against a register. The dread of choosing a tip percentage based on a two-minute interaction. The freedom of choice, of spontaneity.

Instead, I had the dubious pleasure of eating the same bagged lunch four days in a row — thank you, HUDS — a real throwback to freshman year when I didn’t rely on the Northwest Labs vending machines for 30 percent of my nutritional needs. I also felt eternally grateful to my clubs and part-time job for feeding me my weight in Frito-Lay products. I felt thankful to past me for having the foresight to leave just enough on my T pass to get me to lab and back (twice!). (Yes, this article has now turned into an acknowledgements section; do you have a problem with that?) I felt slightly less than ecstatic with Flyby (read: my own, very hastily made decisions) for forcing me to avoid a boba outing with my friends.

Small inconveniences aside, choosing not to spend anything for a week was not as tortuous as I’d expected. It probably saved me about $12 max, most of which I spent within the following week out of sheer spite. I suppose it never hurts to reign in your spending, but there’s no sense in overthinking it; unless you’re embarking on multiple shopping sprees a month, I doubt your personal spending choices are less economical than purchasing the random textbooks on your syllabi. Winning the no-spend challenge shouldn’t come at the expense of the freedom to live your life as you please. Plus, if you switch up your spending habits too quickly, your credit card company might suspect fraud, and that sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.