"I Always Count How Many Days I Can Go Without Spending" – Frugal Habits I’ve Kept Even After Getting Comfortable

Back when I was a starving college student, spending every penny on rent and food, I’d always count how many days I could go without spending a dime. I still play this little game sometimes and brag to my girlfriend whenever I manage to spend zero dollars for more than five days straight.

I have two main habits like this. First, I always finish everything on my plate. Growing up with five siblings, food was scarce and wasting it was unthinkable—something I still can’t do today. Second, I constantly check my bank account. Back then, it was to avoid overdrafts; now, it’s because I still can’t quite believe how much money I have.

I’m a doctor and I still drive the same car I bought during university. Could I have a flashier ride? Sure, but I don’t care. It gets me where I need to go, so why spend thousands on a new one?

I only buy clothes and shoes during sales. I refuse to pay full price, even if I really like something—I’ll wait it out. Oh, and I play the lottery. My husband always laughs at me for it, but I just can’t quit.

My parents always diluted our drinks with water. It was normal for us to have juice or, on special days, soda cut halfway with water. They said it was to avoid too much sugar and fizz, but later admitted it was to save money. Either way, I still dilute everything with water—even milk.

I never open letters in front of others—only when I’m alone. My twenties were filled with reminder letters: unpaid bills, late loan payments, overdrafts. Now I know those worries are behind me, but I still check my mail alone, a little anxious.

In my old, run-down apartments, I could never run too many electrical devices at once because the wiring was weak and would trip the power. Now I live in a big, modern house, but I still often check if the microwave or washing machine is off before I start blow-drying my hair.

I still fix everything myself. I could call someone with one phone call, but whenever something breaks, I first take it apart and try to fix it myself. I only call a professional if I really can’t handle it. (Usually, I can.) My wife and kids don’t get why I insist on this—they think I’m showing off my skills, but it’s just an old habit from when I had to do everything myself.

I still dye and cut my own hair. I could afford weekly salon visits like many of my friends, but I’m used to doing it myself and wouldn’t trust anyone else with my hair. I buy the usual—one of the cheapest brands—apply it, wash it out, trim the ends a bit, and that’s it. I’m not about to pay someone tens of thousands of forints for that.

My lunch is always a sandwich. I make it myself every morning. Since becoming "wealthy," the only change is swapping plain white bread for seeded rolls and ham instead of bologna, with a bit of veggies and mayo. Not that I don’t like bologna—my husband just never buys it because he says it’s unhealthy. My daughter teases me, saying, "Mom, you have so much money, you could eat at the fanciest restaurants every day or order in," but I love enjoying my sandwich alone, in peace.