Listen here, Columbia. These puny little Christmas string lights ain’t cutting it. When you say you’re lighting the trees, I expect them to be awash with light. Dazzlingly bright, some may even say. I look to those trees to provide my sad little winter brain with one extra ounce of serotonin, and right now, they’re running at about a 4/10 on the Izzy Szyfer Brightness Scale (patent pending). So forgive me when I request that those trees better be like floodlights from a helicopter on College Walk.
But fear not, Columbia! I come bearing solutions to my problems, namely: put seasonal depression lamps on the trees. You know those lights that emit the brightest, whitest, light that a seasonally-depressed person can handle? I already need to have one of these lights in my proximity for 15 minutes a day in order to be able to function. So put a bunch of them on the big trees. Let me have my prescribed happiness light time on College Walk at night. In fact, let everyone have their psychiatrist-recommended happy time at the trees! We will all be drawn to the light like moths. Give us what we need.