Ever looked at your bank app and thought, “Wait… how did coffee become a recurring subscription?”
That was me last semester. I wasn’t buying designer bags. I was buying little treats—and somehow my “€3 here, €4 there” coffee habit was quietly speed-running my budget. The annoying part? I genuinely love coffee. The cozy walk. The five-minute break between lectures. The tiny moment of being a person.
So I tried a different goal: cap the spending without quitting the ritual.
And honestly, it worked way better than the “I’ll stop buying coffee forever” fantasy.
First: a reality check (not a guilt trip)
Coffee is one of those things where you’re not “bad with money,” you’re just living in the real world where it’s easy to buy.
Also: you’re not alone. The National Coffee Association reported that 66% of American adults drink coffee each day (Fall 2025 National Coffee Data Trends). Source: NCA Newsroom. And 82% drank coffee at home, which made me feel less “uncultured” about making my own sometimes. Same source.
One more helpful number (because my brain loves a boundary): Mayo Clinic says, “Up to 400 milligrams (mg) of caffeine a day seems safe for most adults.” Source: Mayo Clinic.
Not financial advice, not health advice—just context so we can be a little more intentional.
The method that finally clicked: “Out-of-home coffee has a budget”
My mistake was treating café coffee as part of “life.” Like oxygen. Like rent.
Instead, I started treating out-of-home coffee (café, bakery, train station, campus coffee bar) as its own category with a cap. Home coffee stays in groceries.
Here are the mini-experiments I actually tried:
Mini-experiment 1: The “2 paid coffees” rule (weekly)
Pick a number that doesn’t make you sad. For me, it was two café coffees per week.
- One is a “social coffee” (friend catch-up, study break).
- One is a “dopamine coffee” (when I’m dragging).
Everything else becomes: homemade, office machine, or “I’ll drink it later” coffee.
What surprised me: I didn’t miss café coffee every day—I missed the break. So I kept the break and swapped the drink.
Mini-experiment 2: One “default order”
I used to freestyle my order based on mood, which is cute until mood = “add oat milk and syrup and whatever makes me feel okay.”
So I picked a default:
- small cappuccino (or americano + milk—whatever you like)
- no extras unless it’s one of my two weekly coffees
Less decision fatigue, fewer accidental upgrades.
Mini-experiment 3: The “coffee window” (to avoid the 4pm panic buy)
When I pushed caffeine too late, I slept worse, then needed more coffee the next day. A tired little cycle.
So I tried a simple window: coffee before early afternoon, then switch to decaf/tea/water. The Mayo Clinic caffeine guideline helped me set a sane upper limit without turning it into a morality play. Source: Mayo Clinic.
Try this in 10 minutes (seriously)
Do this once and you’ll immediately see where the money is going:
- Open your banking app (or a tracker like Monee—no pressure, it just made my spending patterns visible).
- Search “coffee” and your top 2 café names.
- Filter to last 30 days.
- Count:
- number of transactions
- total spent
- Now pick your cap for next week:
- either a transaction cap (e.g., 2 café coffees)
- or a money cap (e.g., €10/week)
The goal is not perfection. The goal is “I’m choosing this,” not “this keeps happening to me.”
My “good enough” coffee setup (so I don’t feel deprived)
I learned I need two things: caffeine + cozy.
- A reusable cup (makes homemade coffee feel like “real coffee”)
- Instant coffee I actually like or a basic moka pot/French press
- One ‘treat’ add-on at home (cinnamon, frothed milk, cocoa powder—something small)
- Emergency caffeine for campus days (a little thermos has saved me from so many impulse buys)
And I stopped pretending I’ll become the kind of person who weighs beans at 7:00 a.m. Love that for other people. Not for me.
What I wish I knew earlier
Capping coffee spending isn’t about becoming a monk. It’s about protecting the parts of student life that are already expensive.
If coffee is one of the few daily joys you have right now, keep it. Just give it a container. A cap. A “this is enough” line that makes future-you feel safer.
Small wins count. Especially the boring ones.

