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🚨💔 My name's Jessica. I'm 32. I live in Waterford, in Lisduggan, in a rented flat. With my partner Tom. We've been together four years. He's a decent enough bloke. But I'd be lying if I said I was a hundred percent sure about our future. I work on the tills at Lidl. Shifts from 7am till 3pm. Sometimes 4 if someone calls in sick. I'm on €12.70 an hour — minimum wage. After tax that works out at around €1,780 a month. Tom works too. Between us we get by. But getting by isn't the same as actually living. It means you look at your account at the end of the month and think: right, not in the red. And that counts as a win. Rent: €145/week — my share (€628/month, bills not included) Gas and electric: €125/month Leap Card: €65/month (two buses each way, every day) Food shop: €200/month (I buy whatever's on offer) Personal stuff: €55/month Phone: €40/month Work clothes and shoes: €50/month Medical and GP visits: €60/month Unexpected costs: €80/month My own savings: €310/month (the only way I'll ever get out) That leaves me somewhere around €167. And that's my money. Not ours. Mine. And it's never quite enough to feel independent. Tom pays his share. I can't complain about that. But there's a difference between living with someone because you want to — and living with someone because you can't make the numbers work without them. I'm not sure which one I'm doing anymore. I'm up at 5:50. Shower. Breakfast. Two buses into work. Eight hours on the tills. "Hiya." Scan. Smile. "Cheers, take care." Again. Again. Again. Then the bus back. Tea. Sofa. Sleep. On the bus I never open my AIB app. Even when I'm desperate to check. I'm too embarrassed — I don't want anyone seeing the number on my screen. So I just look out the window instead. At home, when Tom's gone to sleep, I sit in the kitchen. No telly. Just sitting. Thinking about how I'm 32. No savings of my own. If I lost my shifts or got sick for a week — I'd have nothing to fall back on. Nothing that's just mine.
