My Fuck Off Fund Is More Like a Fuck You Fund

I’m saving it for the day when life says “fuck you.”

Photo credit: jinterwas, CC BY 2.0.

I’m not sure if I have a Fuck Off Fund.

As of today, I have $9,751.32 in my savings account, $5,546.34 in my Roth IRA, and $40,819.26 in my 403(b).

Certainly that’s more than enough money to tell someone to fuck off with, right?

Except I think I view my savings as more of a Fuck You Fund. As in: when the world says “fuck you,” this money can help you get unfucked.

This means, at least on some level, that I don’t see this money as mine to spend. Not because I put it in savings; because I assume that, at some point in the future, an outside force will determine where the money goes.

It’s the “your landlord sold the building and you have to move in 60 days” fund, not the “your neighbors play loud music at night so maybe you should consider moving” fund. (Also, it’s not like you can move every time you have a neighbor who blasts music at 4 a.m., and I’ve had that happen in my last two apartment buildings.)

It’s the “your health insurance plan has a $4,500 medical deductible and a $1,500 pharmacy deductible, so you had better save at least $4,500 in case something happens to your health this year, and you might want to save extra in case something happens to the ACA” fund.

It’s the “if something bad happens” fund, not the “if you want something better to happen” fund.

Maybe I’m pessimistic. Maybe I only value investing in my career and not investing in myself. (Notice how I am not buying a new sofa or a new mattress right now, even though I could use—and afford—both.)

But I suspect that, deep down, I am incapable of telling anybody to fuck off. I can use money to solve problems, but I’m also the conflict-avoidant type who prefers to manage her feelings and look for solutions where nobody has to get mad. (Except me, but I’m already mad, so I’ve already proven I can handle it.)

I’m also the type who will put up with a bad situation (or a bad sofa) because I’ve got larger goals in mind, and that bad thing doesn’t really get in the way of me hanging out with my friends or working on my novel, right? Taking time to fix the bad thing would get in the way—plus, you know, it’d be lifestyle creep.

Maybe there will come a day when I will finally be able to say “fuck off,” and maybe I’ll use my money to help me do it.

Until then, I’ve got a Fuck You Fund—which is to say, an emergency fund.

This week, we’re celebrating the Fuck Off Fund. This story is part of this series.

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