When I moved into my studio flat I didn’t think I would be able to afford a tree and imagined that if I did get one, it would probably be really small – pot plant-sized. But when Christmas arrived that first year, I found myself buying a tree I was fairly sure was too big for my flat. I bought cheap tree lights and then raided my drawers for old bits of ribbon, which I cut up and tied to the branches in decoration. Over the years I’ve bought a few baubles but the ribbons go on the tree every year; a reminder that poverty can lead to some of my better ideas. The ribbons cost £2 and they look brilliant.

Having a budget forces you to be imaginative, from creating a recipe using dry lentils and half a questionable onion because that’s all the food you have left, to making homemade presents in the form of truffles out of some old chocolate and a slab of butter, to crafting your own Christmas decorations or hanging an old drawer on the wall as a makeshift shelf.

But it also makes you imaginative in other ways. I find extra work in December to cover the present money; there are always retail companies or bars looking for event staff. I always, always find the money for presents in the end, somehow.

I will never be the sort of person who can buy presents in the January sale; I can never even buy them over the Black Friday weekend. I will be working extra shifts, new events, temp jobs, buying one present with each extra bit of money that comes in, right up until the last possible minute. And I will be sitting at home on my days off from second jobs, in the cosiest of flats with the smell of my real tree and the warmth of Christmas lights reminding me why it is all worth it.

As I hand over my card and pay the £30 for the tree, I feel a frisson of excitement about getting out my old bits of ribbon and bringing Christmas home. And, hey, this year I found potted trees near my flat with free delivery, so I won’t have to struggle home via two buses like in previous years. Things are already looking up.