Dear bank account… sorry

Like most students, I live for the day that my student loan gets paid into my account. When SFE send that glorious text, it triggers a rush of euphoria – much like the feeling you get when Beyoncé drops an album or absolutely slays a Superbowl performance.

I thought I’d add to my government-funded wealth by getting a job. To me, this represented the opportunity to go from living in a world of beans on toast and Tesco value vodka to tasting the finer things in life.

To me, [getting a job] represented the opportunity to go from living in a world of beans on toast and Tesco value vodka to tasting the finer things in life

I wasn’t expecting to nibble caviar and sip champagne while my chauffeur drove me to campus, but I was hoping to at least have enough money saved so I could treat myself at the end of the year. Alas, it was not meant to be.

Second year has its demands, many of which are food-related. Prepare yourselves, first years. Living off campus means you can’t just pop back to halls after a seminar to have lunch. Instead, a burger and a cheeky drink sounds like a great idea at first. But after a while, all those meals add up and before you know it your card is bouncing faster than a toddler on a trampoline.

When I’m not spending my money on fattening myself up for summer, I buy stupid things, purely because I think that I can afford them. I have reed diffusers, mood candles, decorative cushions with cheesy puns on them, and a ton of ‘necessary’ stationery. I love my toast-it notes, but they’re hardly a study essential.

After a while, all those meals add up and before you know it your card is bouncing faster than a toddler on a trampoline.

Anyway, I worked my part time job till February, and while the money was good, the stuff I have to show for it is essentially needless – especially, the extra weight I’m carrying. Jobs can be a source of financial independence, fuel for your CV, and sometimes they can be fun.

However, for me, it just ate away at my time and gave me money that I no longer have.

But who knows? I might still get to taste that champagne and caviar yet. Only joking, I’m doing an English Literature degree; my poverty is eternal. Sorry, bank account, it’s all downhill from here.