Great Expectations: Housing Advice for the Young Professional Pauper

Since the first installment of Great Expectations was published a few months ago, I've received dozens of requests for more advice. You were all so grateful for the tips about how to eat on a budget, but you let me know loud and clear that there are still more metaphorical fish for the young pauper to fry as he navigates these tough economic waters. (They have to be metaphorical fish because the real ones are still swimming somewhere around $10 a pound and that's outside our budget!)

So today, my peasants, I'm providing some housing advice because, let's be honest, you've looked under a bridge or two and wondered what it might be like to live there if you can't pay your rent next month.

Regarding furniture: You don't actually need any. You're not on HGTV. Coffee tables are really just vehicles for artfully-displayed detritus. Chairs for guests are unnecessary because you can't afford to entertain. I'll allow you a mattress, maybe a couch, and a table so you can maintain some level of dignity when you eat your Spaghetti-Os out of the can. Lamps are allowed because reading is important so your brain doesn't rot. A pauper must pull himself up by his bootstraps, and you'll need smarts for that, kid.

But what else do you need? Stop shopping for framed art, knick-knacks and other luxury items like baking pans and wooden spoons. Live within your means for one hot second. Once the sharp stabs of self-pity wane, you'll realize Lazy-Boys are merely ostentatious displays of weak moral character.

"But Catherine," I hear the Bumpkin Chorus chime, "you allow me to have a mattress and lamps, but I can't afford any." Young professional paupers must be resourceful, and if your eyes are open and your ears are listening, you'll soon realize that your more monied friends have furniture. In fact, they have so much of it, they want to give it away to you! Be humble, bumpkins, and gratefully accept what you are offered.

On the subject of utilities: I'd suggest you think twice before approaching that thermostat in the winter months. We've become so soft! Put on a second pair of pants, a couple of sweaters, and a winter coat, and I'm sure you'll find the indoor temperatures of your tenement much more agreeable. Drink some tea, an inexpensive drink known for its warm, healing properties. Perhaps you've heard of it. If you feel you're suffering overmuch, consider the research which indicates cooler temperatures may be good for you.

Furthermore, appreciate the riches you do have. You are an employed professional! Take advantage of the heat, electricity, and water at your workplace. Work an extra hour or two at the textile mill. By the time you get home, you'll be too tired to worry about creature comforts. Curl up in your pile of rags, blow out that kerosene lamp, and look forward to a brand new day.

The neighborhood and what it offers Young Pip: Just because you're 25, have a professional wardrobe, a real job, and nearly $4 to spend on lunch, doesn't mean you're too accomplished to dog sit, mow lawns, or water Mrs. Spielman's beloved houseplants. These jobs aren't for just for 12-year-olds anymore, and it's about time those seventh graders started to feel the pinch of the recession anyway. Offer yourself proudly as a more qualified, mature alternative to Timmy from down the street. You could be out there making money, so step out of that boarding house and look at the economic opportunity around you.

The world is your oyster, young pauper!