As a 23-year-old freshly minted liberal arts grad working part-time at a bookstore and full-time on anxiety, Jay wasn’t exactly rolling in it. But he was rolling his eyes when his roommate Gabe suggested—no, insisted—he learn basic budgeting sheets.

“You literally pay $9.99 a month to watch ads on streaming,” Gabe said while sipping cold brew he definitely couldn’t afford either. “You need budgeting sheets.”

Jay scoffed. “I need more money, not homework.”

Still, after his card was declined at the vending machine (RIP, Funyuns), and his mom texted, “We are not sending more money. You’re an adult now. ”, he decided to give this “budgeting” nonsense a shot.

Excel: The Villain Turned Ally

Jay cracked open his laptop like it was a treasure chest… full of disappointment. He opened Excel. Blank. Cold. Intimidating. Like the inside of his fridge.

He typed “Jay’s Budget Sheet” in A1. Then immediately bolded it, changed the font to Comic Sans, and felt accomplished.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Step one. Make it cute.”

Thirty minutes later, he had a mildly colorful grid and no clue what any of it meant. He googled: How to budget if you’re broke and bad at numbers.

The algorithm, clearly worried, showed him videos titled “Budgeting Sheets 101” and “How I Paid Off $30K in Debt Using Google Sheets and Rage.” He clicked. A rabbit hole later, Jay had a revelation: budgeting sheets were just digital adulting diaries with math.

He created columns: Rent, Groceries, Fun, Cat Treats (for no cat yet—just in case), Coffee, Streaming, Emergency Nacho Fund. Rows for Expected, Actual, and Difference.

Then came the moment of truth: inputting his actual expenses.

Let’s just say Jay’s “Fun” column was basically his whole paycheck. And his “Emergency Fund” was actually negative—thanks, unexpected dentist bill.

“This is… horrifying,” he whispered. “But also kind of thrilling.”

Confronting the Numbers

Once Jay saw the damage, something shifted. He wasn’t angry. Just amazed. It was like discovering his bank account had been haunted and now the ghost was showing him all the receipts.

He tweaked the numbers. Moved things around. Created a formula to subtract expenses from income. He Googled how to do that too. (Shoutout to =SUM(B2:B7) for becoming his new bestie.)

Jay even added a pie chart. Not because he needed it—just because, as he put it, “If I’m going broke, I want visuals.”

By the end of the afternoon, he had something resembling a budget. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. And honestly, kind of beautiful.

He stared at his handiwork, then at his bank app. The two were now—finally—on speaking terms.

The Month of Budgeting Sheets

Over the next few weeks, Jay kept using his spreadsheet. Every Sunday, he updated it while sipping homemade coffee (cutting Starbucks saved $35 that month). He discovered trends, like how he spent $60 on random “little” purchases that somehow added up—$2 here, $7 there. Death by snacks.

He wasn’t suddenly rich. But he was aware. And that made all the difference.

He also learned how to make dropdown menus, use conditional formatting (his “Over Budget” cells turned red, which was both helpful and rude), and add notes for each transaction. Like: “$12—impulse kombucha purchase. Worth it? Debatable.”

When his friends complained about being broke, Jay was now that guy. The spreadsheet guy.

“Just use budgeting sheets,” he’d say, sipping his lukewarm homemade latte with smug wisdom.

“Who are you?” Gabe had asked once, watching Jay choose generic cereal over the fancy brand. “What did budgeting sheets do to you?”

Jay shrugged. “I just don’t want my money ghosting me anymore.”

Reflection from a Reformed Financial Disaster

Budgeting sheets didn’t turn Jay into a millionaire. But they did turn him into a functioning adult who knew where his money was going—and, more importantly, where it shouldn’t be going (looking at you, $6 cupcakes).

Now, every time his paycheck hit, he had a plan. And every time a surprise expense popped up, he didn’t panic. He had a “Life Is Wild” buffer category.

Jay even started saving. Like, real saving. $10 here, $20 there. Enough to feel like Future Jay might actually be okay.

“Budgeting sheets,” he said once while high-fiving himself, “are just the grown-up version of cheat codes.”

He paused. “Except instead of infinite lives, you get rent money.”

One morning, her landlord sent a reminder that rent was due tomorrow, and Luna did what any rational adult would do—she panicked while eating cold pizza in a robe.

“Where did all my money go?” she groaned, scrolling through her bank app like it was a horror movie.

Luna realized she needed to learn some simple financial formulas to manage her expenses better.

That’s when her best friend Jay called.

“Dude, have you not made a budget yet?”

“I have a budget,” Luna replied defensively. “It’s just… somewhere. Maybe in my notes app. Or my dreams.”

Jay sighed. “Okay. Time to use your computer for more than Netflix and aesthetic desktop wallpapers. Ever heard of simple financial formulas?”

Luna blinked. “Like, spells? Because I could use a money magic wand right now.”

Jay practically dragged her onto Google Sheets over video chat. “Let me show you the magic of SUM and AVERAGE.”

=SUM(Broke) + (Anxiety)

Jay walked her through making a basic table of her expenses for the past month: rent, groceries, streaming subscriptions she forgot she had, and an embarrassing number of bubble tea receipts.

“Okay,” Jay said. “Now highlight these expense cells and type =SUM. Hit enter.”

Luna did.

Boom—her total expenses appeared like a ghost of financial regrets.

“That’s it?!” she asked. “That formula just… added everything up?”

“That’s the point,” Jay smirked. “Simple financial formulas. They look boring, but they’re kind of financial x-ray vision.”

Luna stared at the number. “Why did no one teach me this in school?! We spent three weeks on mitochondria but not one day on THIS?!”

Jay laughed. “Okay, now let’s get real. Do you want to know how much you typically spend on Postmates per week?”

She grimaced. “Do I?”

“Use =AVERAGE. Highlight your weekly Postmates rows, and boom—you’ve got the average.”

Luna did, and the number appeared.

“That’s… That’s a round-trip flight to Miami. Every month. On dumplings and tacos.”

From Chaos to Clarity

That night, Luna got weirdly into spreadsheets. She color-coded her spending categories (pink for food, green for bills, orange for “oops”), used SUM for each category, and AVERAGE to track her grocery overspending trend. By the end, she had a neat little dashboard that would make any spreadsheet nerd shed a tear of joy.

She also discovered that she was spending $48 a month on five different streaming services but mostly just rewatched The Office.

The next day, she canceled three of them and made her lunch instead of ordering out. She even started a tab for savings—just a baby step, but a big deal for someone who used to think “emergency fund” meant calling Mom.

Final Formula: =Luna + Confidence

Two weeks later, Luna texted Jay a screenshot of her updated budget.

“Dude. I used SUM to track my bills and AVERAGE to see how much I save when I don’t order takeout. I feel like a spreadsheet wizard.”

Jay replied, “Next step: VLOOKUP.”

“Let’s not get crazy,” Luna wrote back.

But deep down, Luna had changed. Not in a “sold her soul to Excel” way, but in a I-know-where-my-money-goes way.

Moral of the story?
Simple financial formulas might not be sexy, but they will absolutely help you afford more pizza—and peace of mind.