Seconds after hitting “publish” on my last post, I realized why I’m not dreading winter despite multiple warnings that I should. I’ve got it. And I won’t let it go.

Since my days as a ballet student from age 10 to 18, I’ve believed this: You’re not allowed to truly appreciate something if you haven’t put in the work to enjoy it. It’s similar to the idea of paying your dues. You gotta get through X to genuinely appreciate Y.

Which, each November through March, Chicago most certainly does.