Chronicles of a Broke Butterfly BAP: Employed and Still Broke?

Hey Ya'll!!! *waves enthusiastically* Did you miss me? I missed you, even though no one ever comments here (hint, hint). It's been too long. The good news: I got a job and am no longer on the Breadline. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!!! The bad news: Despite a decent salary, I am still broke after seven paychecks. Where they do that at?!?!

Granted, this is an entirely different kind of broke. This is an all major bills paid including consumer debt, more than one meal a day, gas in the tank for the most part kind of broke. But I'm realizing broke is a state of mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm eternally grateful not to be sitting up somewhere hoping no one hears my stomach rumbling and ordering a plate of fries as I watch my friends order a full meal. (SN: To their credit, they love me dearly, so most of the time, they offered to buy me dinner too :D) And beyond blessed to be past the conundrum of making just enough money to pay utilities and car insurance and put enough gas in the truck to get to the next placement while only qualifying for $16 a month in foodstamps. But it sucks to go to a job that pays a pretty decent salary, maybe not for a young lawyer with loans and credit card debt, but to my family and friends and the average person, and still have essentially no disposable income or means to start a savings account. This is especially annoying because people, especially in the black community, think that if you are a lawyer, doctor, accountant or Ph.D. you are supposed to be breaded up. Yeah, not so much. Most of us young professionals are suffocated by loans, credit card debt, and the costs, both expected and unexpected, of starting out.

Ya'll don't understand how many budgets I have made and corners I have tried to cut only to reluctantly come to the conclusion that it's not improper financial planning but income level that's holding me back. But to me, even writing this blog seems outrageous and ungrateful. I was raised in a working class family. My grandmother worked for a mattress factory down the street from our home until she retired and then she was a cleaning lady at the college I would one day attend. My mother worked in customer service and then at a company assembling glasses until she got laid off and was never able to find another job because of her lack of computer proficiency. My dad worked as a supervisor in Items Processing at a major bank and was responsible for the handling of paper checks pre-Check 21 before being laid off himself. As a supervisor, my dad made the most of anyone in my immediate family and my starting salary was a little more than the salary he worked his entire career to earn. How dare I complain?!?! For the most part I don't, not out loud anyway. I might say I'm upset I can't attend the Foreign Exchange concert tonight at the Masquerade (but only two of my closest friends know that it's because I can't afford it) or decline an outing because I'd rather stay in (even though it's really because I have to be very careful about how I spend my discretionary income).

It does take a toll in other ways though, I certainly don't eagerly arrive at work 15 minutes early anymore, to make a paycheck that will go to the city, the county, the grocery store, the gas pump and various bill collectors. But more importantly and most troubling, I worry about my ability to do what I am passionate about and what I think God has called me for, work in public service, either in the government or through a non-profit. If I am barely squeaking by now with no money to do all the things that I forewent in college and grad school (i.e. vacations) because I thought I'd be able to afford and enjoy them as a working adult, what happens when I want to go back into the public sector, particularly the nonprofit sector, and I have to take a 20% pay cut? These are the things that keep me up at night. But at the same time, it seems selfish and I feel guilty and ungrateful because I know plenty of people in my position who are unemployed and underemployed and way worse off than I am. I know that I cannot be the only person who feels like this and I am sure that people who grew up in single parent homes and working class families probably are in a unique position to really feel my struggle but no one ever talks about it. It's like all the young professionals are too proud to admit we're struggling and feel like we've been sold a bill of goods, or too afraid to be labeled ungrateful for the education and opportunities that those before us worked so hard to afford us. Having a pity party all the time isn't cool but I think occasionally it is cool to admit you're struggling because it lets the rest of us perusing our friends Facebook albums of trips to Bali, sojourns to Peru and weekend party excursions know that we're not in this alone. I'm just here to let you know that there is a kindred spirit out there making yet another budget, streaming TV series off the Web, and treating themselves to a Farmburger on a Friday night.