The Inner Monologue

Oh, look at you—40-something, still dreaming of retirement while your 401(k) looks like a sad, deflated balloon. Congrats! You’ve mastered the art of financial mediocrity. But guess what? There’s still hope. Not much hope, but enough to keep you from eating cat food in your golden years.

Step 1: Stop Being a Starving Artist and Get a Real Job

Remember when you thought your passion would pay the bills? Adorable. Newsflash: Passion doesn’t buy groceries.

• Maximize your income. If your job pays in ~exposure~ or ~good vibes~, quit. Today.
• No, your side hustle selling handmade dream catchers isn’t a retirement plan. Get a real skill. Learn to code. Sell your soul to corporate. Whatever.
• Build an emergency fund. Because nothing screams “financial idiot” like putting a medical bill on a credit card at 27% APR. Live on ramen. Sell plasma. Do whatever it takes to stash at least some cash.

Step 2: Obliterate Your Debt Like It’s Your Ex’s Reputation

Debt is the financial equivalent of that toxic friend who always needs a ride but never chips in for gas. Ditch it.

• Start with the smallest debt. Yeah, even that $37.50 you owe your mom. Pay it off. Feel that tiny rush of victory? Good. Now do it again.
• Snowball method, baby. Take the payment from Debt #1 and throw it at Debt #2. Keep going until you’re debt-free (except the house, because adulting).
• Keep paying minimums on everything else. Unless you enjoy calls from debt collectors at 3 AM.

Step 3: Hoard Cash Like a Dragon Sitting on a Pile of Gold

Now that you’re (mostly) debt-free, bulk up that emergency fund like you’re prepping for the apocalypse.

• Aim for 7–13 months of expenses. Because the universe loves kicking you when you’re down.
• No, your emergency fund is NOT for a “deserved” vacation. Touch it, and I will find you.

Step 4: Invest Like You Actually Want to Retire (Shocking, I Know)

Time to stop pretending crypto or meme stocks are a retirement plan.

• Max out employer matches. FREE MONEY, you absolute walnut. If you’re not taking it, you might as well light your paycheck on fire.
• 12% minimum. (round up to 15% if you are math challenged) If you’re not investing at least this much, you might as well start picking out your future cardboard box now.
• Boring investments only. No, your cousin’s “can’t lose” NFT scheme doesn’t count. Stick to index funds and ETFs. An 8% average rate of return is way better than 0%. Like almost 10% better)

Step 5: Murder Your Mortgage Like It Owes You Money

Your house is the only debt you’re allowed to keep (for now). But paying it off early is the ultimate power move.

• Throw every extra penny at it. (Throwing dollars at it is even better) Live like a monk. Eat beans. Wear last decade’s fashion. Your future self will thank you.
• Check your loan terms. Make sure extra payments go to principal, not just making your banker’s yacht payments.
• Imagine the smugness of owning your home outright. No bank can take it. No landlord can raise rent. Just pure, unfiltered I-win energy.

Step 6: Congrats, You’re (Kinda) Rich! Now Shut Up About It

Real wealth isn’t flashy cars or designer dog sweaters. It’s silent, smug security.

• Drive a Corolla like a normal person.
• Live below your means like a financial ninja.
• Invest like a machine.

Now? You’ve got options. Retire early. Work part-time. Take up a hobby that doesn’t involve crying over bills.

Final Warning: NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR MONEY (AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU)

• Don’t tell people you’re doing well. They’ll either ask for loans or call you “cheap” when you refuse to pickup the bill at dinner.
• Your money is nobody’s business. Not your friends’, not your family’s, especially not your broke coworker’s.

So there you go. Follow these steps, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll escape the soul-crushing grind before you die. Or the economy will collapse, and we’ll all be trading canned beans as currency. Either way, at least you won’t be the idiot financing a toaster at 300% interest. You’re (barely) welcome.