The Beatles once sang money can’t buy you love, but let’s face it: love isn’t everything. Can love keep you warm at night? Sure, but I can snuggle with a North Face fleece just as easily. Maybe a lover can sing you gently to sleep, but my iPod Classic (in its sleek matte finish) offers me the sweet soliloquies of Jenny Lewis, Sufjan Stevens and Damien Rice any time I want.

I’m on co-op now, and have been experiencing the never-ending joys of having money. It’s a new and somewhat surreal experience reaching into my wallet, and feeling the soft touch of a crisp $20 bill. Sure, when you’re on co-op there are other benefits, like gaining real world working experience, making valuable contacts within your field and, for some, even a job offer after graduation.

But we’re college students first and foremost, and with that classification comes the harsh reality that money is often in short supply. When balancing the costs of tuition, housing and the occasional social activity, chances are, a part-time gig at the local coffee shop isn’t going to appease your expenses.

So, we adapt. We find new and innovative ways to save cash. Suddenly, newspaper becomes toilet paper. A well-balanced meal usually means a slice of pizza. The Garment District dollar-a-pound stash is where you pick up the latest fashions.

But when you’re on co-op, instead of living like a leech, you’re living large like Robin Leach. Money is no longer an elusive mistress. Material possessions that seemed out of reach before are purchased with ease. Instead of Dunkin’ Donuts, you find yourself drifting into the nearest Starbucks. You taste your way through the finest Newbury Street cuisine and upgrade your wardrobe from the sales bins to the display racks.

For six months, life is grand.

But what happens when this blissful fantasy ends? How do students cope when they make the transition from co-op back to classes? Jobless, I imagine it is difficult to live comfortably after our lifestyle has been so cruelly downgraded. I’m in the middle of my first co-op cycle and I fear January with each passing paycheck.

Suddenly you learn another one of life’s Big Lessons: how to budget money. You cut the bi-weekly caramel macchiato fixes and limit yourself to one dinner out a week. You use the extra money to buy groceries and make ample use of that mysterious, seldom-used device in the kitchen: the oven. You still hit stores’ sales areas, but every once in a while you also treat yourself by paying regular price. It’s a tried and true formula that, when done right, leaves you with extra money at the end of the week and enough to carry into the next semester of classes.

It’s an often difficult and arduous journey to adulthood, but you realize after a while you can’t go spending frivolously. It’s a cruel and often unfair world, but at 20 years old, we Northeastern students learn what few of our peers do. Along with adjusting to the nine-to-five, we can peg this as another reason Northeastern students are asked to grow up faster than some of our peers at other schools.

Take yourself out to dinner to celebrate growing maturity. But remember to pass on dessert.

– Jeff Miranda is a middler journalism major and member of The News.