The math says I’ll be able to quit for good shortly after I turn 40, about fourteen years from now.
Life happens in your 30s: you may make more as you partner up and/or advance in your career; but you might also get laid off, have children, go to grad school, move, buy a house, have to deal with the death of your parents, or face any of a number of other challenges that make you put saving on hold.
As it turns out, you can’t merely wave your hand in a languorous way and say, “Be a dear and invest it in low-cost index funds won’t you, Philip? There’s a good chap.” I mean, for one thing, who is Philip, is he the butler? And if so how does he have access to the accounts?
I’m unafraid to ask for student discounts, corporate discounts, damaged-item discounts, and the nebulous “Is there any way to get a better price on this item?” discount at chain stores and other places that I suspect will want to accommodate me.
Don’t do the things you hate. If you hate making coffee, don’t attempt to drop your daily coffee shop habit. Don’t cancel cable if you love your TV shows so darn much. You’ll just give up and blame these attempts at saving for making you miserable.