By David Field

Staying out of debt at university was no easy feat. There were the tuition fees, paid by my parents, the cost of my accommodation in halls, paid by my parents and my new set of biros and A4 pads, paid for out of my own pocket. Well that was the first year anyway. After that, it was decided that I should be more financially independent. "We don't want you to have to sleep on the streets," my parents said, "But we would like you to take more responsibility for your finances."

After the summer between my first and second year was spent earning pittance on a Victorian window renovation team, partly because we spent more time posing for pictures to be included in the company's ill fated calendar than actually doing any work, an action plan was required.

The student loan simply would not suffice. A part-time job, a couple of nights each week, would keep me ticking over. Bar work didn't appeal and selling popcorn down at the cinema to rowdy teenagers even less so. As they say in numerous job case studies: "I fell in to the industry but soon realised that we were perfectly suited." Glass polishing down at the local cricket club's restaurant was just what I needed. The pay, I thought, was reasonable, at £5.30 an hour, the hours decent and I didn't actually have to polish anything as the glasses all looked clean already and nobody really checked anyway. Despite being out of cricket season the club had a steady stream of businesses looking to hire out its restaurant for corporate events and it was a good line of employment.

Making sure that whatever I earned went in to a decent savings account was another part of the plan. Online accounts seemed to offer the best rates of interest even if it was slightly worrying that my IT undergraduate friend, Colin, said he could be in to my account in five minutes.

Getting myself a girlfriend was a happy accident involving too much cider and a bouncy castle. Nevertheless, it did wonders for my bank balance, if not for my social circle. The temptations awaiting me in Gianna's bedroom often outweighed the offer of a game of pool and a few pints down at the local pub with my mates, at least for the first few months of our relationship. So while I was shedding pounds under the covers, my bank balance grew steadily healthier, to the extent that I could quit the polishing job.

Big mistake, the week after I finished with the cricket club, Gianna finished with me, claiming something about that I never took her out anywhere or bought her anything. So I was back in the boozer, throwing my money away more readily than ever.

By the third year, when some work was actually taking place in our student flat, money problems decreased as my opportunities for going out lessened but still I was a little too close to the bread line for comfort. Cutting back on the luxuries was a final gambit. Kebabs, if they can be counted, were out. No more CDs or going to football matches, it was time to save and get my head down. It worked, I got my degree, remained debt free, apart from that large student loan hanging over me, and began my hunt for a job that would really pay the bills.