• I was surprised when my parents gave me $5,000 for my wedding, bringing our budget to $10,000.
• On a tight budget, I got creative with the planning, but then I was laid off.
• Although I don't know what the future holds, I'm still getting married on an even tighter budget.

I wasn't born into money. I live paycheck to paycheck on a $70,000 salary while paying off credit cards and college loans from 16 years ago. But still, I'm planning my dream wedding.

I was incredibly surprised when my parents offered $5,000 for the wedding. My dad has an 8th-grade education, and my mom is an immigrant from Austria. They've worked hard to build themselves up and have done well for themselves, but they still pinch their pennies and avoid overspending.

I've also never asked them for money. I've been working, in some capacity, since I was 14 and have always relied on myself to pay for everything.

Thanks to my parents' $5,000, my fiancé and I have pushed our budget to $10,000, knowing we would foot some of the bill ourselves and might possibly get additional family gifts.

Of course, that's a wedding on a budget, but I didn't know how much worse it would get.

I've been a bride on a tight budget

Along with my $70,000 salary, my partner is a freelance journalist, meaning his income is unpredictable. We also live in Chicago, where the average price of a wedding is around $56,000. The majority of wedding venues here cost $20,000 just to rent the space. Food or drinks aren't included.

In a sea of wealthy brides from Lincoln Park, I'm a Southside bride just trying to fib my way into looking fancy.

I designed and made our letterpress invitations ($560), we found a gorgeous wedding venue ($5,500), I scoured Reddit for tips on how to save on flowers ($700 box of real foliage from Costco), and we are having mezze for our rehearsal dinner ($1,000) on a patio at a flower shop ($700).

I splurged on my wedding dress ($2,000), but we are buying our alcohol (TBD) and decided to make our wedding playlist using the app WeddingDJ ($5 a month).

Despite our calculations, the budget increased to $20,000 because we quickly discovered that every little detail adds up.

We were going to be cutting it close, but with my regular paycheck, my fiancé thought we could make it work.

I was laid off, but I wasn't devastated

When I learned the news that I was being laid off, I had just paid for our shuttle service ($788). I worked remotely and saw the Google Meet invitation pop-up for the next day. I had a day to pace around the house and prepare for my 8 a.m. layoff video meeting.

As a journalist for the past 11 years, I've always imagined how I would react if I got laid off. Tears, for sure. Panic, absolutely. But instead, I felt none of those things. I simply laughed.

It's my typical shoddy luck to be having a wedding at 35 years old and lose my income just a few months before the big date.

What could I do? I could sulk. I could lie on the couch. I could freeze up and not do anything. Or I could contact every editor I knew, reach out to all of my contacts, and let them know my situation.

So that's exactly what I did.

As a result, the response has been overwhelming. Friends and former coworkers have been emailing me job listings, sending me a $5 Venmos for coffee, or simply telling me to "hang in there."

My plan for the future and our wedding

If I don't get a full-time job in the next few months — which, let's be real, in this job market I probably won't — I'll be jumping back into freelancing full time after a five-year hiatus.

Is it glamorous? No. Is it what I thought I would be doing at this stage in my career? No. Am I still on severance and not fully realizing how much shit could hit the fan? Yes, so we can circle back on this later. But for now, I feel hopeful.

I'm getting married. Nothing will stop that. There may be some aches and pains when reworking the budget. I might not get to buy as many candles as I wanted. I don't need a hairstylist; I can do it myself. No one needs to know my wedding shoes are $15 from Depop. I can let this news crush me, or I can pull up my bootstraps and carry on.

I was already cutting costs on so many things, and to be honest, it makes planning a wedding more creative, and now that inspiration has intensified. Figuring out alternative fabrics for tablecloths, searching for vintage cakestands, making and printing our programs — all of it becomes more tangible and personal.

And now, lucky for me, I have all the time in the world to plan the party of our lives.

• I was stressed about money, and meanwhile, my best friend made six figures.
• She offered me $10,000 to ease my stress, but it wounded my pride, so I didn't take it.
• The offer almost cost us our friendship, but opening up about our feelings brought us back together.

In India, I stretched my husband's modest income (which, back in 2018, was about $6,000 USD) like a tightrope — every rupee meticulously budgeted, every luxury nothing more than a distant dream. He was our sole breadwinner while I stayed home, and we had no other income to cushion us if things went awry. (For context, that year, the average annual salary in India was only about $2,000 to $3,000.)

Meanwhile, my best friend — earning six figures abroad — lived in a different universe: spontaneous weekend getaways, designer bags, casual brunch invites I could barely fathom, let alone afford. For 15 years, we had tiptoed around this financial divide, pretending it didn't exist.

But eventually my stress began to spill over: tears in my voice, money worries seeping into every late-night message. She saw it all and grew exhausted from hearing about my anxiety on repeat. One afternoon, weary of my constant venting, she offered me $10,000 "to fix it," as though a cash infusion could mend my bruised pride and soothe my restless mind.

I froze. "No, it's too much," I stammered.

She looked hurt. "Why? It's no big deal."

Her ease stung worse than the offer itself, and a friendship I cherished suddenly felt fragile. That money could've eased years of financial worry — but instead, it nearly cost me my best friend.

Her offer wounded my ego

She'd seen my frayed edges — texts about bills, tears over a broken fridge — and thought cash could stitch me up. Instead, it tore me open. Anxiety clawed deep. Was I a charity case? Memories of laughing over chai and cheap samosas felt warped by pity.

Her intent was kind, but the financial gulf between us — her jetting off at a moment's notice, me counting rupees — started to feel unbridgeable. I couldn't find the words to explain what her offer stirred up in me. She looked surprised, maybe even hurt, when I pulled back.

"I just wanted to help," she said. But the damage was done. I stopped texting. Her calls went unanswered. The money sat unclaimed; it was a wedge, heavier by the day. Her offer wasn't the solution she imagined, and it couldn't fix what was really wrong. In fact, it nearly broke us. My stress wasn't just about cash; it was about dignity and my identity, things no amount of generosity could fix.

Honesty brought us back together

Weeks of silence dragged on — her WhatsApp pings faded, and my guilt intensified. I missed her laugh, our late-night rants, but I couldn't face the pity from her I'd conjured in my head. Finally, I cracked.

"We need to talk," I texted.

On a shaky call, I spilled everything: Her offer had felt like judgment, not a gift. She was stunned.

"I just wanted you to stop hurting," she said softly, her voice breaking. She hadn't meant to buy me.

I admitted my insecurity — how her wealth made me feel small, how I'd let resentment fester silently. It wasn't easy. She confessed guilt, realizing she'd unknowingly nudged me toward luxuries I couldn't afford and suggesting trips, fancy dinners, and shopping sprees, never seeing how much I was quietly struggling beneath the surface. We cried, laughed, and swore our way through mugs of virtual chai.

The money? Forgotten. She never mentioned it again. What truly brought us back together wasn't a check or money transfer; it was finally acknowledging the unspoken mess we'd ignored for years. I learned that closeness isn't about shared lifestyles — it's about shared honesty. I still count coins; she still jets off. But we're more open now. That difficult conversation didn't erase the gulf; it built a rickety bridge across it.

While $10,000 might have offered some temporary stability, it wasn't worth what I almost lost. Friendship isn't about equal wallets; it's enduring the gaps.

• Young professionals lose money by keeping savings in low-interest accounts, says Yuval Shuminer.
• Shuminer, CEO of Piere, says daily purchases, like coffees, aren't the problem.
• Piere aims to automate financial optimization by finding the best deals.

Young professionals are leaving thousands of dollars of their hard-earned money on the table, a personal finance expert says.

But, she said, their money mistakes have nothing to do with their daily purchases.

As a New Yorker, Yuval Shuminer, the founder and CEO of the fintech app Piere, was used to expensive coffees and brunches.

"It is an absurdly expensive city," Shuminer told Business Insider. "As you go about day-to-day life, you start to rack up a lot of these expenses across coffee that costs $7, an avocado toast that costs $12."

But in 2022, when the economy started to turn, Shuminer saw some of her friends get laid off and look at their finances more critically.

"The conclusion that we came to is that we're taking so much brainpower to think about the $5 that we spend on coffee every day," Shuminer said. "It is so constricting to our lives."

Young professionals do make a lot of financial missteps. But the biggest one is holding their savings — sometimes tens of thousands of dollars — in accounts with 0.02% interest when market rates for high-yield savings accounts were more like 4.5%, said Shuminer.

"That alone is $10,000 they're leaving on the table," Shuminer said.

Shuminer, who studied behavioral economics, launched Piere in December 2023 in response to what she saw. She thought traditional budgeting apps focused too much on constraining spending rather than automating financial optimization. She realized that so many people weren't aware of how much money they could easily put in their pockets while instead focusing on these $5 purchases that shape their lifestyle.

"Instead of working with all these tools that focus on constraining people's budgets and limiting the amount that you're spending on these fun things, the way that we built Pierre is to say, those things are fine," Shuminer said. "But if you're leaving your money in savings without earning yield on it, or you're paying fees that you shouldn't be paying, those are the things that aren't OK."

Piere's ethos is to make your money work for you in the background, Shuminer said.

Most of Piere's users are lower or middle class, Shuminer said, who didn't necessarily learn early on how to manage money.

"Consumers are just so overwhelmed with the financial choices that they have to make that oftentimes they just don't do them," Shuminer said. "Because of inertia, because of anxiety, because of the frictions that they need to overcome in order to make some of these decisions."

She said Piere does the hard work for them, keeping track of the financial marketplace, which changes daily.

"Every single day, something is changing," Shuminer said, such as a new savings account with a better rate.

"Money is a tool — you're not collecting money just to collect money," she added. "You're collecting money for it to create more value in your life so that you can allocate it to the things that are going to make you happier or better off."

Shuminer said the biggest financial oversight she sees people in their 20s making is not realizing the impact that even small investments can make.

"$10 a month, $100 a month, has a lot of compounding effect," she said, which can turn into a healthy savings pot by age 40, and certainly by 70.

"It's like it's some hidden secret that I think a lot of people realize when it's a little bit too late," Shuminer said. "Our goal is to help people."

• Julie Beckham is a financial educator and mom of two.
• Her daughter is a high school senior, and her son is about to graduate from college.
• She's had honest conversations about the cost of college since they were young.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Julie Beckham, assistant vice president of financial education and development and strategy officer at Rockland Trust Bank. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in a middle-class family and was lucky to have my parents pay for my education at New York University. NYU was still expensive back in the 1990s, but it was the type of expensive that a middle-class family could still afford with a moderate amount of sacrifice.

Today, as a financial educator, I still consider myself middle class, but there's no way I could pay the entire cost of college education for my two kids, who are 18 and 21. That's true for many families, thanks to the skyrocketing cost of college.

Because of that, I've been very intentional about talking with my kids about paying for college — from the time they started high school.

Here's how we've planned together to manage the cost.

Choose more affordable schools

Schools with a lower profile yet more affordable tuition can offer a better return on investment for many families. Getting kids to consider these can be tricky since colleges are so good at marketing. Sometimes, going to a "name brand" school is less about the degree and more about the swag.

Ask your kids what they love about a well-known school. Then, provide alternatives that have that same characteristic, at a lower price point. Boston College is popular near where I live because of its football culture, but the same vibe can be found elsewhere for a much lower price.

I've told my kids to consider schools that may not be well-known or have all the swag but are nonetheless special. These schools can give talented students more financial aid and a chance to stand out.

Understand what you can afford, and tell your kids

As my kids approached college age, their dad and I talked about the amount that we could afford to pay toward their education. It's based on what works for each of our budgets.

My kids are expected to pay the difference between the cost of their college and what we're able to cover as their parents.

I recommend parents be very honest about what they can afford, so students can decide whether they're willing to take on student loan debt to cover other costs.

Ditch the guilt about what you can't cover

Sometimes I feel guilty that I can't pay for their whole education. But this is my reality and what I can reasonably afford.

Although I'm a financial educator, I didn't have the means to start saving for college until my kids were in their teens. When I did, it was very simple: transferring a small portion of each paycheck to a savings account I named "college." It wasn't a 529 college savings plan, it wasn't a lot of money, and it wasn't very sophisticated, but it was a start.

It's easy to criticize ourselves as parents, but we need to acknowledge we're often doing the best we can for our kids.

Apply for grants and scholarships

Small grants and scholarships might seem insignificant against the huge bill for college, but they add up. You think $500 isn't going to make a dent, but when you're paying $80 for a book, you realize $500 can be helpful.

I helped my kids apply by researching opportunities, reminding them of deadlines, and encouraging them to work on applications. Sometimes they weren't happy to write another essay, but I reminded them it would take an hour and they could get hundreds of dollars.

Ask for more financial aid

Once you've applied to schools and received your financial aid packages, you might notice significant differences in how much aid your student gets from each school. If that's the case, you can ask a school to match what a comparable school has provided.

I've tried this twice. Once, I called the financial aid office, and they said they couldn't make changes. But another time, I was asked to email the other offer, and they'd see if they could adjust the financial aid package. It never hurts to ask.

Consider graduating early

My son is about to graduate from college a year early, which is a huge savings for our family. He did it by taking advanced placement (AP) classes in high school and earning a few extra credits during college. It was hard work, but it will likely save our family thousands of dollars.

College brings up a lot of feelings for parents and kids. There's so much pressure to get this step right. It's helpful to remember that this is just the first of many steps. Although it feels important, it's the decisions we make every day that really impact our lives.

• Bola Sokunbi saved $100,000 in three years on a $54,000 salary, after graduating college in 2004.
• She continued to save and invest, even during the 2007 recession, and started Clever Girl Finance.
• Sokunbi said during tough economic times three tactics helped her continue building her investments.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bola Sokunbi, a certified financial education instructor, author of the soon-to-be-released "Clever Girl Millionaire," and founder of Clever Girl Finance based in New Jersey. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I graduated from college in 2004 and saved $100,000 in three years on a $54,000 salary. Then, in 2007, the recession happened.

A lot of people stopped investing, but I had been reading "Smart Women Finish Rich," one of my favorite personal finance books at the time. I remember the guidance: The stock market is on sale. Buy what you can and just ride it out. I thought, "I'm young. I don't need this money anytime soon." So despite the panic, I'm going to save and invest.

I was fortunate enough to avoid getting laid off from my consulting job, and I was side-hustling my life away with my photography business.

Off the heels of saving that first $100,000 and starting my company, Clever Girl Finance, I've been building an over $1 million portfolio for the past eight years. Making this happen — even in tough economic times — isn't as difficult as you'd think. Three tactics have helped me invest and build.

Build up a cash buffer

You always need to have a cash buffer, meaning you have money set aside to cover your expenses — kids, food, housing, mortgage, unexpected home repairs, that kind of stuff — without having to cash out investments.

When I transitioned out of my full-time job to build Clever Girl Finance in 2017, I set an intention to save 18 months of my salary beforehand. Even if my business didn't make any money or I needed to go back to work, I still wanted to have enough of a buffer.

I always tell people to open a separate bank account that they don't have easy access to. If they're employed, they should build an automated transfer from their payroll into this account

Get a side hustle

It's also really important, even if you're working full time, to have other sources of income. People will say to me, "Well, I'm not business-inclined." Well, you can get creative.

I have twins, and one way that I brought in extra money towards their savings was to sell stuff as they grew through every stage of their lives. They outgrew their strollers, so I sold their strollers. They outgrew their cribs, so I sold those too.

There's no shame in a part-time job or side hustle. I worked full-time, running Clever Girl Finance, and at the same time ran my photography business, which I operated from 2008 to 2015. I would charge more or less $4,000 for one wedding.

I also had a little bridal retail shop. Even today, I have Clever Girl Finance, but I also take on speaking opportunities and write books. I'm doing all these other side hustles as part of my business, as a way to diversify my income stream.

Invest with diversification in mind

I'm a huge John Bogle fan. He was the founder of The Vanguard Group, and he popularized something called the three-fund portfolio, which is essentially where you put your money in three categories, at a minimum, which are US stocks, US bonds, and then international stocks. So a three-fund portfolio of index funds or ETFs.

When your money is categorized this way, you're pretty much investing across categories, like pharmaceutical, healthcare, technology, automobile, consumer staples, etc. — you have a super broad diversification. This reduces risk and it helps me weather crazy storms. If pharmaceuticals were down, then the rest of my portfolio could be an anchor.

I also invest in some individual stocks, typically for brands I'm vested in because I use the products, and beyond the stock market — some angel and real estate investing.

I wanted to help change the narrative

I didn't imagine that I'd ever write a book or turn my finance journey into a full-time business. I wanted to help change the narrative that I was hearing about women, especially Black women, not caring about their finances, so I created Clever Girl Finance.

There's always going to be crazy and calm moments. Look at historical occurrences. Look at how investments have behaved over time. If you have your cash buffer, side hustle, and invest with diversification, then you have less of that stress about what's happening to your investments. Just set it and forget it.

If you need the money, you shouldn't invest it. If you don't have emergency savings or if you need job stability, then focus on prioritizing those two first and maybe take advantage of an employer investment plan before you start ramping up investing.

There's a lot of panic with what people are seeing economically and politically. If you're feeling overwhelmed, focus on building a positive mindset, reading, and staying educated. Don't get caught up in the hype.

If you work in finance and would like to share relevant investment tips, please email the editor, Manseen Logan, at [email protected].

• My husband died when I was 46, and I received a wake-up call about financial preparedness.
• His life insurance policy was a lifesaver as I developed a more long-term plan for our family.
• I sought professional advice to get through that time, and I'm glad I did.

In the wee hours of the morning, several days after my husband's death in 2003 from sudden cardiac arrest, I awoke out of breath, my heart racing. Would my daughters be able to stay in their schools? Could I continue to pay the mortgage on our home?

When my husband accepted his first overseas diplomatic assignment, I gave up my career. Once back in the States, I began to slowly rebuild my professional life, but I was far behind my peers in earning power and savings. Still, I didn't worry too much about our income and my slow-growing 403b. We weren't diligent savers; we had mortgages, car loans, and two children in private schools. We relied on the assumption that Uncle Sam had our backs.

Insurance was a lifesaver for me during that time

Suddenly, with a base salary of $42,000 a year, I became responsible for my two teenage daughters and, as an only child, my elderly mom. My husband had good life insurance in place (with his morbid sense of humor, he often joked about how "well off" I'd be when he died), which was a godsend, but I needed to understand how to use our money efficiently.

Most financial experts say you should have enough money in your emergency savings fund to cover three to six months' worth of living expenses. Being unprepared is exacerbated if you are not used to navigating the finances. In my case, I was aware of our position in general terms, but large decisions, such as our daughters' education and buying or selling a home or vehicle, were always joint.

As my husband's beneficiary, I received his federal life insurance payout. Early on, I received incorrect information, leading me to believe that I needed to keep the insurance payout I received in the low-interest settlement account. Learning that I was able to move it to an account that delivered a higher rate of return eased a lot of stress. My initial priority was not investing but making sure I had enough money coming in to pay our bills. I chose to work with an advisor at our credit union to invest the money in instruments that would conserve — and hopefully increase — my principal and provide an income stream to supplement my small salary.

I developed a long-term financial plan

My advisor suggested investments that would help me achieve the goals we had planned for our daughters. I was happy to learn I'd be able to keep my younger daughter in parochial high school and enable my older daughter to remain at her current college. Next, I paid off some high-interest items with part of the insurance money, which eased the burden on my modest income and saved me from having to make large draws from our investment accounts. Later, I tackled estate planning issues such as updating my own will and beneficiaries on all financial items.

Even though I knew how to access our bill-paying software and bank accounts, having no real savings of my own and a meager retirement plan due to contributions of only the 10 years we'd been back in the States made me anxious. The reality of planning a possible solo retirement made me again wish I'd been wiser about my personal saving practices. Soon after tragedy strikes, many widows and widowers rush to make huge — and sometimes unwise —

major financial decisions. A short time after my husband's death, I considered selling our home. but an accountant friend advised me to wait until I was on steadier emotional ground. I'm glad I did because the house appreciated in value, and I was able to secure a good price when I did sell it 15 years later.

I learned a lot about financial preparedness when I became a young widow

In my grief support group, I saw firsthand others having to sell homes or move in with family after losing a spouse or partner's income. I know I was fortunate because of my husband's foresight in planning for a future that did not include him. Because my life insurance had always come as a benefit of my employment, I purchased additional insurance to guarantee that the girls would have some assets should my financial situation change, or I could no longer work.

Even though I learned a lot by becoming a young widow, I wish I'd known more about financial planning before tragedy struck. Having to shoulder the weight of a family's financial present and future only added to my already fragile emotional state. At least, seeking both professional and personal help and a dose of strategic planning eased one of the burdens I felt immediately after my husband's death.

Tips and ideas to lower the cost of your wedding

Tips and ideas to lower the cost of your wedding

UNITED NATIONS - The DOGE Caucus just got a consulting offer from an initiative looking to remove waste in the United Nations. 

Dynamic Oversight for Global Efficiencies in the U.N. (DOGE-U.N.) is looking to help the caucus identify cost-cutting opportunities and hold the U.N. accountable.

"Accountability should extend beyond domestic institutions to global organizations that America funds. And they all should operate with fiscal responsibility and proper oversight," DOGE-U.N. wrote in a letter to Sen. Joni Ernst, R-Iowa, who founded the Senate DOGE Caucus.

'UN80 INITIATIVE' APPEARS TO SHOW WORLD BODY'S PANIC OVER POSSIBLE DOGE-LIKE CUTS

Last month, U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres announced the UN80 Initiative in honor of the 80th anniversary of the international organization. Despite speculation that the initiative was a response to Elon Musk’s work with DOGE, Guterres told reporters that it was completely unrelated. Guterres said the project is meant to handle the U.N.’s ongoing "liquidity crisis."

"For at least the past seven years, the United Nations has faced a liquidity crisis given the fact that not all member states pay in full, and many member states also do not pay on time," secretary-general spokesperson Stéphane Dujarric told Fox News Digital at the time. "This is about prudent spending planning to ensure that we can continue to fulfill our core functions and the mandates given to us by member states."

Hugh Dugan, the head of DOGE-U.N., told Fox News Digital that this is an opportunity to reform the U.N., which has not undergone any significant overhaul since 2000. Dugan also emphasized that the U.N. should be under this type of scrutiny more frequently and not just when the U.S. is "frustrated with" the organization.

DOGE USAID BUDGET CUTS HIT UN IN 'WORST LIQUIDITY CRISIS SINCE ITS ESTABLISHMENT'

Under Musk, DOGE first tackled waste at the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), which drew significant criticism. President Donald Trump listed several examples of the ways USAID allegedly wasted U.S. taxpayer dollars, including millions of dollars that went to diversity, equity, and inclusion programs in other countries.

Dugan told Fox News Digital that a significant portion of USAID funding was "funneled" through U.N. entities. He believes the "money trail will definitely be taking us through many of those entities, whether it’s peacekeeping or a U.N. development program."

In its letter, DOGE-U.N. lists several recommendations for the DOGE Caucus, including decentralizing New York-based U.N. entities to lower-cost countries, which the organization said could save "at least 40% in salaries alone." DOGE-U.N. also recommends an audit of the U.N.’s ongoing "liquidity crisis."

The U.S. is not the only country rethinking its contributions to the international body. Dugan told Fox News Digital that other countries are also reevaluating their spending, but the U.S. is "the most colorful and biggest" because of Musk.

Dugan ultimately pointed the finger at Guterres and told Fox News Digital that there are "whispers and grumblings among ambassadors" who are allegedly dissatisfied with the secretary-general’s performance. Senior U.N. insiders allegedly told Dugan that they too are "very eager" to see things turn around "sooner rather than later."

Ernst’s office did not immediately respond to Fox News Digital’s request for comment.

• John Moore delivered mail in a Massachusetts city for 31 years before retiring.
• After leaving the post office nine years ago, he started working as a floral delivery driver.
• The part-time job means he hasn't had to draw on his retirement savings at all.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with John Moore. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I delivered mail with the post office for 31 years. As a mailman, you know everyone. Depending on what you're delivering, sometimes they're happy to see you, and sometimes they're not. When my kids and their friends were applying to college, I'd give them a heads-up if they had a much-anticipated envelope in the day's delivery.

For most of my career, my route was in a residential neighborhood. I'd park the truck and walk a big loop, then move the truck further down and do two more loops. I walked about eight miles a day.

There was one kid who would meet me on the steps every day and say, "Did you watch the game?" He always wanted to talk sports — a big topic in greater Boston, where I live and work. I watched this kid grow up, and now he works for a professional sports team.

I always planned to work in retirement

Being with the post office, I had a traditional retirement account, a Thrift Savings Plan (TSP), which is similar to a 401(k) but for federal employees. That gave me peace of mind, but I always figured I'd work even after I retired, both to earn money and to keep busy.

I retired from the post office nine years ago when I was 59. My wife was still working, so I immediately started looking for a part-time job after I left the post office. On her way home from work one day, she saw an ad for delivery drivers at a local florist.

It was a funny turn. Not only had I already spent my whole career delivering things, but my father, who was a firefighter, had a second job doing floral deliveries. It felt like everything had come full circle.

Everyone's happy to get a flower delivery

When you bring flowers, everyone is happy to see you. It's a pleasant surprise in their day. I always notice if I'm delivering sympathy flowers, but even those people are happy to see me. One time, a woman opened the door, teary-eyed because her husband had died. I felt terrible, but she was still so nice and cheery.

When I worked at the post office, I understood that I might be the only person some people talked to each day. That was especially true for older people. I keep that in mind when I deliver flowers, too, and always try to be kind and pleasant.

I've only had one flower customer who wasn't happy to see me. I delivered a bouquet of a dozen roses to an office building. The security guard paged the woman who the flowers were for. As she walked toward me, she said, "Roses? Really? I told him I don't like roses!"

I would love to know if they're still together.

I don't see myself fully retiring anytime soon

I work about 18 hours a week and make $20 an hour delivering. Sometimes I think I should be paid more, especially when I consider what my employer is charging for delivery fees. Still, the job is easy and low-key. I listen to sports radio and music in the van. If I need a week off, I just tell them I won't be in. It's a trade-off for that kind of flexibility.

Sometimes people try to tip me, but 98% of the time I refuse it. They're the ones getting the gift, so they shouldn't have to pay. If they really insist, however, I'll take the money.

Although I'm not making a ton of money delivering, the income has meant that I haven't had to touch my retirement savings yet. My wife and I also travel more than we used to. We love going on cruises with our two children, their spouses, and our grandson. We have similar schedules, since she watches our grandson on the three days a week when I work.

At 68, I don't see myself giving up this job anytime soon. It's nice to have a bit of extra money, and not need to dip into savings. I like walking to work, and delivering something people can smile about.

• My husband and I meet weekly to plan out our meals so we can reduce food waste and save money.
• The chore has now become a ritual that we look forward to and it has brought us closer together.
• Sometimes, our son joins in, fostering family communication and collaboration.

Every Saturday morning, my husband and I get together to plan out our meals for the rest of the weekend and the upcoming week. While our thoughtful meal-planning sessions stemmed from sharing cooking duties and a desire to reduce food waste at home, it has become part of our routine and something that I look forward to.

My son is getting older, but I like to include him in the process

My son is 11, so he is increasingly independent but still likes to be around us. I'm fully aware that one day soon he'll want to be doing his own thing, so I'm enjoying his company while it lasts. He often plays with his toys, draws, or watches cartoons while occasionally pitching in on our meal-planning discussions.

I think it's really beneficial for him to see and hear my husband and I communicating and working together, while also being included in the process. He gets to see both of us considering what we like to eat or whether it's realistic to tackle certain meals during the week and then often compromising. We also like to take my son's dinner preferences and upcoming schedule, such as after school clubs and sports practices, into account when we plan the week's meals, too.

It feels more like a date than a to-do

Our Saturday mornings now feel welcomingly slow. It's usually the first time all week that we have the time to actually take our time together. I always miss my husband so much by the time Saturday arrives that I relish getting to be with him.

During these meetings we like to drink too much coffee and cuddle with the dogs while we talk. Sometimes we put some music on, depending on our mood. Something that could probably take 15 minutes or less to accomplish has grown into an hour or two of time together. Because I enjoy the time together so much, it really elevates the otherwise mundane chores of meal-planning and composing the grocery list.

I feel like it puts us on the same page

It's impossible to not recap how things went over the past week and discuss what's coming up, so I feel like the routine gives us the opportunity to reflect on so much more than just food. We're both teachers which makes us inherit planners who constantly review what didn't work and what we could do better.

It ends up feeling like we're really working together and collaborating on what's best for our relationship and our family. By considering which meals we all enjoy and which meals will be easier to make when we know we'll be tired or have less time to cook during the week, it also shows how much we really care for one another.

The habit is good for our marriage and our budget

The Saturday morning routine has become just as healthy for our grocery budget as it has for our relationship. Because we carefully plan around items we still have at home and meals that will give us leftovers, our food waste has dramatically fallen to almost none over the last year.

Accomplishing our goal of sticking to the grocery budget feels like a huge accomplishment and makes me feel like we make a good team when we decide to work together. Plus, turning the task into a family event gives us a way to reconnect each week.

• It's not difficult to find wealthy lawmakers on Capitol Hill.
• Some members have amassed considerable levels of wealth from business ventures and investments.
• And it's not a partisan affair: Democrats and Republicans both have several ultra-rich members.

When many Americans think of Capitol Hill, the image of well-heeled politicians often comes to mind.

Sure, you don't have to be a multimillionaire to win a congressional race, but having an abundance of wealth doesn't hurt. That's especially the case for candidates who can self-fund, which allows parties to divert critical dollars to nominees in competitive races.

While every lawmaker isn't rich — even as some have leveraged their profiles to attain lucrative book deals — there are many members who have net worths of at least $1 million.

And then there are the lawmakers who are considerably wealthy, even by congressional standards.

Here's a look at some of the richest members of Congress:

• Michaele Blakely was an organic farmer for more than 40 years.
• She lives on 31 acres in Washington, and rents her fields to dog owners.
• She likes that it's a low-effort way to make money in retirement.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Michaele Blakely, who rents her land through Sniffspot. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Working as a self-employed organic farmer, I didn't have a plan for retirement. My four kids wanted to pull out their hair in frustration with me. But I believed if you do the right thing and work hard, you'll generally be OK in this country.

I'm 71 now, and so far, that's been the case for me. I became semi-retired right around the time the pandemic started, in 2020. Before then I was working 12-14 hour days raising poultry, cattle, pigs, and crops. In my 60s, I was diagnosed with a few different autoimmune conditions that zapped my energy. I physically couldn't do the long days any more.

Then, I got long COVID, and needed to scale back even further. I kept a flock of goats and made goat-milk soap and botanical treatments and ointments. I ran a small vegetable stand on my property. Last year, I stopped doing that, too. These days, I'm officially retired, but I also have a unique side gig. I rent out my fields to dog owners, and it helps pad my income.

I rent out my fields for $18 an hour

Today I have three streams of income. I rely heavily on social security, and I also took a reverse mortgage on my property. In addition, I make $500 to $1,500 a month renting out my fields for people to walk and play with their dogs.

A few years ago I noticed an ad on a local community Facebook group, looking for land owners who were interested in renting their land. I replied, and became one of the first hosts in Washington with a service called Sniffspot, which rents private dog parks.

Today, I charge people $18 per dog per hour to play in my fields. Some people like to come and just throw the ball to their dogs. Others like to walk the property and look for wildlife like elk.

It's a hands-off way to make money

I love that renting the fields is an easy, hands-off way to make money. I like to say that I prefer not to meet my guests. I can even list that on my profile.

I have renters most days, though Mondays and Tuesdays are generally quiet. If I see a day booking up, I know that's a sign good weather is coming.

I use the computer to keep up with bookings and respond to inquiries. To prepare for renters, I set out water for the dogs. I quickly check for dog poop, and provide a trash barrel for people to leave behind their dog droppings. I mow the fields to make them easier to walk through, but for the most part there's not much I have to do. I'm going to Europe in a few weeks, and I still have renters coming when I'm gone.

I'm an introvert, so this is a perfect fit

Around 2018, I was approached by a company that rents private campsites. I was still running a working farm, and I didn't think anyone would be interested in camping near dusty fields. The people at the site assured me people would love to camp on the farm, but taking on campers never felt right to me.

I'm an introvert. For 40 years I interacted with so many people at farmer's markets. Don't get me wrong, I loved talking to my customers, but it was emotionally draining. I didn't want to have to do that in retirement. That's why Sniffspot is perfect for me.

I know other landowners on the site make a lot more money than I do. They put in extra effort, by adding agility classes or swimming pools, or even hosting dog birthday parties. I'm not interested in that, but I'm glad to have a source of retirement income that is hands-off. I worked so hard for 40 years that I'm ready to slow down.

• You may have seen some wild claims about politicians' high net worth.
• Most of it's not true, though there are a handful of ways that lawmakers can make an extra buck.
• It's also pretty easy to verify claims about members of Congress's net worth yourself.

If you spend a significant amount of time online, particularly on Elon Musk's X, you may have come across some jaw-dropping information about American politicians' wealth.

There's a good chance it's not true.

Whether it's falsely inflated salaries, charges of illicit sources of income, or estimated net worths seemingly pulled out of thin air, false information about the personal wealth of American leaders is seemingly all over the place online.

The claims are sometimes so outrageous that lawmakers feel compelled to respond, as Democratic Reps. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York and Jasmine Crockett of Texas have.

Some of this false information has been promoted by Musk himself, who recently expressed interest in raising the salaries of members of Congress — based on the notion that they're enriching themselves by steering money toward non-governmental organizations in which they're involved.

The DOGE leader recently reshared a post making false or unverified claims about various top lawmakers, including former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, former Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, and Sen. Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts.

"It's not like these politicians started companies or were NBA All-Stars, so where did they get all the money?" Musk wrote. "Does anyone know?"

Occasionally, members of Congress do engage in outright corruption, with the most recent example being Sen. Bob Menendez of New Jersey.

But by and large, members of Congress don't have a ton of avenues to enrich themselves, thanks to ethics rules.

There's one key way that lawmakers make extra cash

Under ethics rules, members of the House and Senate are generally barred from earning more than roughly $30,000 in outside income from other jobs.

Some make use of that: Marco Rubio, now the Secretary of State, earned more than $20,000 a year teaching college courses when he was a senator, disclosures show. Many do not.

But some lawmakers do manage to find a way to make extra money while serving — one that's perfectly legal and not subject to the outside income limit: book deals.

This is especially true in the Senate, where lawmakers are more well-known, and thus more likely to sell lots of books.

Take Warren as an example. In 2023, she made more than $36,200 from book royalties. The year before, she made even more — over $443,000.

The Massachusetts senator is an especially prolific author, drawing royalties from a combination of political memoirs she's written since becoming a politician. The books include "The Two-Income Trap," which she wrote as a professor, and even textbooks that she helped write in the 1980s.

In 2023, eight senators made more than $100,000 from book agreements. That includes Democrats like Sen. Raphael Warnock of Georgia and Tim Kaine of Virginia, along with Republicans like Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas and Sen. Josh Hawley of Missouri.

Book proceeds are by far the most common way for lawmakers to generate significant amounts of income while in office.

Sometimes, writing books can allow lawmakers to dramatically improve their financial situations. Rubio, for example, has said that writing a book allowed him to pay off his student loans.

Becoming landlords is another way for property-owning members of Congress to make money.

For lawmakers who are already independently wealthy, there's also a way to pad that: stock ownership. That's more controversial, given that lawmakers may have access to non-public information.

Business Insider's "Conflicted Congress" project found in 2021 that many members of Congress fail to report their trades in a timely fashion, and that conflicts of interest abound.

But making money from the stock market isn't entirely straightforward either: The market rises and falls, and even lawmakers can make bad bets.

You can verify all of this for yourself

If you see a post stating that a rank-and-file member of Congress has an annual salary other than $174,000, there's a good chance that it's fake.

That's the salary that virtually all members of Congress have been paid since 2009 — lawmakers have blocked any increase every single year since then.

Congressional leaders make a bit more than that. The speaker of the House — currently Rep. Mike Johnson — makes $223,500 a year. Every other top party leader makes $193,400.

If you come across a post claiming a lawmaker makes an exorbitant amount of money, it's probably worth fact-checking.

The good news is that anyone can do it themselves.

Every year, members of the House and Senate file reports disclosing their assets, sources of income, and debts. The same is true of Trump administration nominees and candidates running for federal offices.

The Senate maintains an online portal for searching this information, as does the House. For the executive branch, there's a portal managed by the US Office of Government Ethics.

So is Chuck Schumer worth $75 million, and Warren $76 million, as the post that Musk reshared alleges?

No.

According to 2023 disclosures, Schumer is worth roughly $2.3 million, while Warren — who's also publicly released her tax returns — is worth a little more than $9 million.