I Pay Myself $75K Running a $500K Business

I don't track my expenses that closely.

No budgeting apps. No spreadsheets with 47 categories. No "you need a budget" software syncing to my accounts.

I check my bank maybe once a month, sometimes twice, just to catch anything weird. That's it.

This probably sounds irresponsible coming from someone who writes about money.

But here's what I've learned running businesses for six years: extreme saving will not make you financially free.

Making more money will. Owning assets will. Building income you control will.

The expense side has a floor. You can only cut so much before you're just... miserable.

Eating rice and beans. Never going out. Feeling like you're in survival mode even when you're not.

I've been there. It's not a strategy - it's just stress with a spreadsheet attached.

The income side has no ceiling.

So I optimize for income. And I keep expenses reasonable - not minimal, just reasonable. Low enough that my runway stays long. High enough that I actually enjoy my life.

Here's what that actually looks like. Full transparency. Real numbers.

What I pay myself

I run my companies without investors. No VCs, no angels, no one else with opinions on what I should take home. Which means I decide.

Right now that's $6,300 per month before tax. About $75,600 per year. After Canadian taxes, I keep around $4,050.

That's it. That's the number.

I know founders who pay themselves way more. I know founders who pay themselves nothing and call it discipline. Both approaches miss the point.

Taking more would just mean paying more personal income tax now instead of letting it compound inside the corporation.

Taking nothing would mean I'm stressed about rent, which makes me worse at my job.

So I found the number that covers my life without being wasteful, and I've kept it there.

This number hasn't changed much in a while. Maybe it will in a few years if my expenses change. Maybe it won't.

I'm not optimizing for a high salary - I'm optimizing for a high net worth in 10 years. Those are different games.

Where the money goes

Rent is $1,400. I share a place with a friend I actually get along with. This matters more than people think.

I've had the horror-story roommate situations - passive aggressive notes, arguments about dishes, someone's girlfriend basically moving in without paying rent.

Finding someone tolerable is worth more than saving an extra few hundred in a worse situation.

I don't own property. Don't plan to yet. I want maximum flexibility before my 30s. Owning real estate in one city feels like a constraint I'm not ready for.

Maybe that changes. Right now, renting lets me stay light.

Car stuff runs me about $520 a month total. $320 on insurance, which sounds insane but is apparently normal for Toronto. $200 on gas.

I paid off my car a few years ago - wasn't really my choice at the time, parents pushed for it, but it turned out to be the right call. No monthly payment now.

If I could do it again, I might have gone electric to cut the gas costs. Cars are a drag no matter what. They lose value the second you drive them off the lot.

There's always something - insurance, maintenance, the random repair that costs more than you expected.

But I need one where I live, so I deal with it. Not going to pretend I've optimized this perfectly.

Phone is $40. I used to pay $70-90 because I never bothered switching plans. Finally did. Took maybe 20 minutes. Should've done it years ago. Stupid tax for being lazy.

Home insurance is $65. Subscriptions run maybe $130 total - Spotify family plan, Amazon Prime, a few random things I should probably audit but haven't.

There's definitely something in there I'm paying for and not using. Maybe I'll cancel it eventually. Probably won't.

Food and going out is around $800 combined. $300 on groceries, $500 on meals and whatever else. Some months it's more, some months it's less.

I'm not tracking every coffee. I'm not meal prepping on Sundays to save $50. Life's too short for that kind of optimization.

The math

Add it all up and I'm spending somewhere around $3,000-3,500 a month. Sometimes a bit more. I don't have the exact number because, again, I don't track it that carefully.

What I do know: I'm not the most frugal person out there. There are people who spend half what I do and feel great about it. Good for them. That's not me.

But my costs are low enough that my runway is long.

If everything went to zero tomorrow - no revenue, no clients, nothing - I could live for years without changing much.

That buffer is worth more than the marginal savings I'd get from optimizing harder.

The thing nobody talks about

I've met people who track every dollar. Who have spreadsheets that would make an accountant cry. Who can tell you exactly how much they spent on groceries in March 2023.

Most of them aren't wealthy. They're just stressed and organized about it.

The people I know who actually built wealth? They didn't do it by switching to a cheaper phone plan. They didn't do it by skipping lattes.

They did it by building something that generates income whether they're working or not. By owning equity in things that grow.

By compounding inside structures that let money work for them instead of just flowing through their personal bank account and out the other side.

I could cut another $500 a month if I really tried. Move somewhere cheaper. Drop some subscriptions. Cook more, eat out less. Fine.

But that $500 saved isn't going to change my trajectory. Building another income stream might. Taking equity in the right company might.

Letting money compound for another decade inside a corporate structure instead of pulling it out to "feel rich" might.

The expense side is a game of inches. The income side is a game of miles.

The uncomfortable truth

There's a version of financial advice that's really just anxiety dressed up as responsibility. Track everything. Optimize everything. Feel guilty about the $7 you spent on lunch.

I don't live like that. I refuse to.

Not because I'm careless. Because I've done the math on what actually moves the needle, and it's not the $7 lunch. It's not the subscription I forgot to cancel. It's not even the car insurance I'm probably overpaying for.

It's whether I own things that grow while I sleep.

That's the game. Everything else is a rounding error.