How Much Did Writer and Lecturer Rachel O'Dwyer Spend In a Week? | A Guest Money Diary

'Even though I’m married and therefore it’s technically “our” money, I now feel obliged to justify my spending to my husband in a way I didn’t before.'

Rachel O’Dwyer is a writer and lecturer living in Dublin. She’s the author of Tokens: The Future of Money in the Age of the Platform and the Substack publication Living Currency, “a collection of messy writing about digital economies, digital money and digital intimacy”. Subscribe here:

Am I really going to pick Black Friday and payday week to divulge my spending? Yes. Yes I am. It’s much more interesting.

I think in normal times I make something like €4,600 after tax every month as a senior lecturer in NCAD, Dublin. My husband makes a little bit more than that as an associate professor in Maynooth – just over €5,000 I think.

If you asked him if he cared about making more than me he’d surely say no, but I suspect he does. I don’t point out that I usually draw in another €500-€1,000 or so per month in freelance writing and speaking fees (it suits me not to be too transparent about this).

We have a joint account that we both deposit a large portion of our earnings into each month, a savings account and separate personal accounts and credit cards.

My husband P (this is what most people call him) is good with money. I am not, despite the fact that I frequently write about it for a living. I don’t pay my credit card in full every month, something my Junior Cert business teacher strongly cautioned against. I occasionally buy things with Klarna if I think there’s a likelihood I will return. Now that I have a mortgage I can’t get very excited about my credit rating.

Though I said above that I usually make €4,600 a month, this year I have taken carer’s leave. In February of 2022 my son Ted was diagnosed with B cell acute lymphoblastic leukaemia at the age of five. His prognosis is excellent (his consultant sometimes throws around the phrase “the 3% club”, referring to a fortunate group of children with a less than 3% chance of future relapse), but treatment for boys under the UKALL2019 protocol is still a gruelling three-and-a-half years. Ted is due to finish maintenance chemotherapy at the end of April 2025.

Looking at him, you wouldn’t know he was sick; he’s got almost waist-length blonde hair and plays for The Bohemians under-9s football team here in Dublin 7 where we live. But he still gets infections and has to attend hospital for chemotherapy.

Shortly after his diagnosis, he had a massive seizure and spent time in the ICU. During the summer he had meningitis and spent weeks in hospital. My husband and I have found it impossible to both hold down full-time jobs.

When Ted was diagnosed, I was on a sabbatical to finish a book. Last year, P took carer’s leave and this year I am again, doing 25% of my normal working hours and earning €1,600 a month along with a social welfare payment of €250 once a week.

I find it interesting that, even though I’m married and therefore it’s technically “our” money, I now feel obliged to justify my spending to my husband in a way I didn’t before. I’m much more frugal this year than I usually am and I don’t think is entirely to do with having less money; it’s also to do with a feeling that this money is no longer my own.

Monday

After saying “I’m much more frugal…” I’ve picked possibly the worst week to divulge my spending. Black Friday and a scheduled appointment for Botox. Oh dear.