Elsewhere in the world, people stir and mutter curses as dawn shoves them into wakefulness.
But here, friends, we tear home across campus on midnight bicycle treks.
Here we stumble home from Burger King distracted by theories of economics and the way the alcohol in our blood makes the clock tower blur into the stars.
Here we spin our brains like coffee-fueled turbines and blast our computers with chattering keystroke zaps.
Here, essays crack, crumble and landslide into printer-paper torrents as mental reservoirs overflow, burst upon unsuspecting assignments below us, drown them and saturate them and thrash them and stream on.
Elsewhere, people punch their alarm clocks and snooze in the shower. But here we know the dawn as it is: the first signpost of approaching sleep.
Northwestern University. It must be in the air here.