Welcome to the comedy recession. No, not the economy — your personal economy. The one where $40 disappears in Target faster than your will to budget. Where filling your tank requires both a credit card and a quick prayer. Where you stare at a $7 loaf of bread and whisper, “We used to be friends.”
If you’ve ever opened your banking app and immediately closed it “for mental health,” this one’s for you.
🧺 Grocery Stores: Hunger Games, But With Coupons
Me in 2019: “Organic blueberries, why not?”
Me now: “Do you have something… bluer and less berry?”
I went to the store for bread and eggs.
Came out with a receipt that looked like a mortgage application.
Cereal costs $6 now.
And that’s without the prize inside. Inflation stole the toy and my joy.
Saw grapes for $4.99/lb.
So I just stood there and inhaled deeply near the fruit. That’s enough.
I tried to meal prep.
Turns out “rice and hope” isn’t as filling as you’d think.
You ever cry in the produce aisle?
Because the romaine lettuce was $5.49 and you were feeling particularly emotionally uncrunchy?
“You are what you eat.”
Cool. I am currently three peanut butter crackers and a coupon away from a breakdown.
Inflation is when avocados cost more than therapy.
⛽ Gas Prices: The Road to Ruin
Filled up my tank today.
The gas pump asked if I was sure.
Gas is $6.27/gallon.
I tried paying in tears and good intentions.
I drive a car.
It drives my anxiety.
My car told me I was low on gas.
I told it we’re low on hope.
Started biking to work.
Not for the environment. For survival.
I waved at a gas station while walking by.
We used to be close, but now we can’t afford each other.
“You can go anywhere with a full tank.”
Not at these prices, Brenda.
Gas is now a luxury item. Like diamonds. Or oat milk.
🏠 Rent, Bills, and That One Candle I Don’t Need But Bought Anyway
Rent’s due.
So is my emotional collapse.
My landlord raised rent.
I raised my standards… in manifest form only.
Electric bill came in hot.
So now I’m living in a cozy little vibe I call “Victorian ghost chic.”
Bought a $16 candle to cope with rent stress.
It smells like bankruptcy with top notes of lavender.
Roommate wanted to split the bills evenly.
I offered “vibes” and two leftover tacos.
Asked my landlord for a discount.
He laughed so hard, he raised it more.
I don’t live in an apartment.
I live in a financial Jenga tower. One misstep and it’s over.
My rent’s not high — my income is just prehistoric.
🛒 Fast Food, But Make It Slow Financial Death
I used to order fries without checking my bank account.
Now I check it before ordering ketchup.
The dollar menu ghosted us.
It’s now a $4.29 menu wearing dollar menu’s clothes.
Me: “Treat yourself!”
Bank account: “To what? A nap??”
I used to upgrade to large.
Now I downgrade to “small talk with the cashier and an empty tray.”
Fast food drive-thru total: $13.47
Me: “I just wanted nuggets, not a personal finance intervention.”
I pulled up to McDonald’s.
Looked at the prices. Pulled away spiritually.
Went to Taco Bell with $5.
Left with a cup of ice and disappointment.
Even the Happy Meal is emotionally unavailable.
💳 Emotional Math & Financial Gymnastics
I checked my bank account.
It said “LOL.”
I budgeted $100 for the week.
Spent $97 on “just one quick errand.”
Added 3 items to my cart.
Total: $92.87
The math is mathing… in betrayal.
Tried using Apple Pay.
My phone exploded from embarrassment.
My finances have two settings:
- “We’re good.”
- “We’ll see.”
I used to save money.
Now I just… delay its departure.
Financial tip:
Don’t check your bank account during Mercury retrograde. Or ever.
My wallet’s on a journey of self-discovery. Without me.
⚡ Quickfire: Broke But Make It Funny
- I’ve reached “looking at food prices like they personally offended me.”
- My budget app just gave up and joined Duolingo.
- I told my therapist I feel financially unstable. She Venmo’d me $5.
- The ATM gave me a hug instead of cash.
- My “splurge” is now buying brand-name cereal.
- I saved $100 by not going outside.
- I rebudgeted. Still broke. But now it’s organized.
🔁 Callback Characters
- The Groceries: Pricey, passive-aggressive, and smug
- Gas Pump: Emotionally distant and charging more than your ex’s therapist
- Landlord: Spiritually allergic to empathy
- Budget App: Deleted itself for self-preservation
- Bank Account: More mysterious than the Bermuda Triangle
🎤 Final Thoughts
If you feel personally attacked by your bank app, haunted by grocery receipts, and betrayed by the dollar menu — welcome to the club. There’s no membership fee because none of us can afford one.
Inflation is real. It’s chaotic. It’s a villain in a bad rom-com where your wallet is the heartbroken protagonist.
Share this post with someone who still refers to their $5 coffee as “self-care,” and let’s laugh our way through the economic chaos. Because if you can’t afford a therapist, at least you can afford a meme.
(Barely.)
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