At 9 p.m. last Sunday, I put my phone in the top drawer of my desk, under a stack of old ISU notebooks, and closed it. Then I sat on my bed and read for an hour. That drawer has done more for my mental health this year than anything I've paid for.
This blog turns one today. A year ago I sat down at this same desk in my childhood bedroom and wrote my first post with a credit card balance of $2,350, student loans at $24,600 and an emergency fund of $1,800. A lot has changed. The card is gone, the emergency fund is full at $6,000 and the loans are well under half. A move fund has been growing since January, and I'm touring apartments this month.
I've tried a lot of habits along the way. Most didn't stick. The one that did is my Sunday reset, and it costs nothing.
The routine, hour by hour
I don't do this on a strict schedule, but most Sundays look like this.
Morning: laundry. I strip the bed, run my laundry in my parents' machines and put the club sheet open on my laptop while it runs. Laundry at home is free, which I don't take for granted. When I lived in Rogers Park, the building machines took quarters and I always seemed to be short.
Late morning: money check. Fifteen minutes, no more. I open the club sheet, match the week's spending against my bank and card apps, check that the autopays went out, and look at the move fund balance. That's it. When I used to skip this, small problems became big ones. When I do it every week, it's boring, which is the point.
Early afternoon: a long walk to the lake. From my parents' house to Gillson Park and back is about forty minutes, longer if I go out along the beach. In early March the lake is still mostly gray, and the wind off the water can be brutal, but I go anyway. It's the only part of my week with no screen in it.
Late afternoon: packed lunches. I work in the office three days a week and from home two. On Sunday I make lunches for the office days, usually a big batch of something like grain bowls or pasta salad, portioned into containers. A lunch out near my office in Skokie is about $14. Three of those a week is $42, or about $180 a month I'm not spending.
Evening: Sunday dinner. I've cooked dinner for my family on Sundays since last summer. Tonight it'll probably be soup.
9 p.m.: phone in the drawer. I read until I'm sleepy. I sleep better, I wake up less anxious, and I don't start Monday by reading the news at 6 a.m.
What I dropped
A year of trying things means a list of what didn't work.
- A full weekly budget redo. Too long, too detailed. I'd spend two hours and then dread it.
- Morning journaling. I wrote for nine days and then never again.
- Meal prepping all five lunches. By Thursday, I was eating the same sad pasta for the fourth time, so now I only prep for the three office days.
- Cleaning my whole room every Sunday. My room is small. Every other Sunday is fine.
Why it costs nothing and why that matters
Everything in my reset uses things I already have: my parents' washer, my own feet, groceries already on my list, a phone and a drawer. There's no app or planner subscription or class. When I write it out, the only cost is time, about five hours spread across the day, and most of that I'd spend anyway.
The money side is real, too. The lunch prep alone saves around $180 a month. The weekly money check has caught two double charges and one subscription I'd forgotten to cancel.
I'd like to say I'm a naturally organized person, but I'm not. I'm someone who forgets the onions and loses her keys. What I've learned this year is that a routine matters more than willpower. If I make the right thing the default every Sunday, I don't have to decide to do it.
So, happy first birthday to this blog. Thank you for reading. My phone goes in the drawer at 9.
