Friday's deposit said $1,332. The one before it said $1,240. I stared at the notification in the office parking lot for longer than I'd like to admit, did the subtraction twice and then sat in my car eating a granola bar like it was a celebration dinner.
My raise went through this month. My salary went from $46,500 to $49,800, which is about 7.1%. I've been at the same practice group in Skokie since August 2022, working claims, denials and the patient balance calls nobody else wants, and I'm proud of this one. I asked for it in my review, brought numbers on how many denied claims I'd turned around last year, and it worked.
But a raise is also the easiest money in the world to lose without noticing. So before the first bigger paycheck even arrived, I decided where every new dollar goes.
What 7% actually means per paycheck
$3,300 a year sounds like a lot. Divided across 26 paychecks, it's about $127 more before anything comes out. Here's roughly where that $127 goes before it reaches me:
- About $6 extra to my 401(k), because I contribute 5% of whatever I earn
- About $10 to Social Security and Medicare
- About $13 more in federal income tax withheld
- About $6 to Illinois, at the flat 4.95%
That leaves about $92 more per paycheck: $1,240 became $1,332. Over a year, that's roughly $2,390 in actual take-home pay, not $3,300. The difference isn't bad news, though. Part of it is the 401(k), which is still my money, and my employer's 4% match grows with my salary too.
My health premium and HSA contribution didn't change. I'm still paying $52 a paycheck for the high-deductible plan and putting $50 into the HSA, both before taxes.
The split I made the same day
I've watched raises disappear before, mostly other people's, but I know how it goes. The extra money lands in checking, it blends in, and three months later you're spending exactly what you earn again, just on slightly nicer lunches. The only defense I know is to give the new money a job before I get used to having it.
So the $92 is split three ways, starting with this paycheck:
$30 goes to the car line. This is the small savings bucket for car repairs that I paused in January and badly regretted in February when a pothole on Sheridan Road cost me $230. It's back, and the raise is paying for it.
$40 goes to what I'm calling the June cushion. I'm planning to move into my own apartment this summer, and I know the first month will have costs that aren't in my move fund: a real grocery stock-up, my own car insurance (which will cost more than the $95 I pay my dad now), renters insurance and a dozen small things I haven't thought of yet. Between now and the end of May that's about $240, which should take the edge off.
$22 goes to my everyday spending. I'll be honest: January and February were tight. My paycheck dropped when I started paying for my own health insurance, and I was putting $900 a month into the move fund. I want a little breathing room, and $22 every two weeks is breathing room I can afford.
$30 + $40 + $22 = $92.
What didn't change
My move fund stays at $900 a month. My student loan payment stays at $800 a month until I move. My emergency fund stays at $6,000. My parents still get $300 a month for groceries and utilities. None of those numbers needed the raise, and I didn't want to touch a plan that was working.
I also didn't raise my 401(k) percentage. I'm keeping it at 5% while I finish the loans and set up the apartment. I get the full match at 5%, and that's the part that matters most to me right now. Once the loans are gone, I'll revisit it.
This month I also toured three apartments: a one-bedroom in Skokie at $1,450 without heat, a garden-level studio in Evanston at $1,375 and a top-floor studio in south Evanston at $1,295 with heat and water included. I haven't signed anything yet, but I ran the numbers for all three, and every one of them works better on $1,332 than on $1,240.
Ninety-two dollars doesn't sound like much. But it's the difference between a first apartment budget that works on paper and one that works with a little room to breathe. That room came from asking for the raise, and I'm keeping it on purpose.
The granola bar, for the record, was the chocolate chip kind. I'm not completely without ambition.
