So I feel ripped off. I mean, Peak Week is my favourite time of the year, no question. I feel as though, weather-wise and season-wise, the rest of the year are the dues I pay, the cover charge, just to get in this one week of unrestrained, exploding colour, to watch the variety of trees the groundskeepers have cultivated on campus do their magic, to watch the row down the center of Wisconsin Avenue explode into a red that threatens to go pink. At Notre Dame, where we got a much more welcome full week of Fall Break, I would take that mid-semester catch-up time for grad student work to read while walking around Saint Mary's Lake (and less frequently Saint Joe's, too) taking in the beauty along with the theology, as is fitting.
So. Whine whine whine. Yes, I fully know that there's a lot worse going on in the world. But still. Drat.