Stand in the foyer of any building on campus for a moment in the afternoon and you'll hear them.
"Aghh." Sometimes the sighs sound like the soundtrack to a George A. Romaro zombie film.
Inevitably, like the changing of the leaves each fall, students have grown tired of triple-digit temperatures in Tempe.
Things would probably be easier to bear - for even the most unseasoned Minnesotan transfer student - if every group of friends didn't have that one person who constantly says, "How about this heat?"
It's times such as these that ASU students should stop, look up and be thankful that their buildings have roofs to lock in the air conditioning.
Other college students on the Gulf Coast might not be so lucky.
When classes resume at Louisiana State University on Tuesday, students returning from a forced evacuation might not recognize their Baton Rouge campus.
Life could not be any harder for those in the Big Easy who survived the fury brought by Hurricane Katrina earlier this week.
Three days have passed since the Category 4 storm made landfall, leaving an estimated seven million people without electricity and nearly 10,000 people seeking refuge in the battered Louisiana Superdome.
The National Weather Service has yet to quantify the full extent of the Katrina's power, but the storm surge that descended upon the bayou has been estimated at more than 20 feet above sea level.
Tulane University evacuated all of its dorms and told more than 1,700 new students to return to their homes. Ordinarily, the Green Wave is a favorite in New Orleans, but this year students will be washed out of class until Sept. 7.
Katrina might also have some rather crude effects on the rest of the country.
The storm, which brought 140-mph winds to the gulf, disrupted oil-drilling sites, shipping routes and ports, and is expected to drive up prices at the pump.
While ASU students might grimace at the prospect of $3 gas prices, they should be thankful that their Volkswagen Jettas and Nissan Xterras aren't deep-sixed.
After the water recedes throughout the Gulf Coast region, the phrase "Dude, where's my car?" might have a whole new meaning for those parked in Katrina's wake.
Of course, the real tragedy in all of this will prove to be the awesome loss of life that has already exceed 80 deaths. And it is expected to climb as authorities reach outlying areas.
So the next time you duck through the Memorial Union to take a breather from the midday heat, stop cursing the sun. Be thankful Phoenix only received 6.71 inches of rain this year.
Sure, it might be hot enough here to believe in the possibility of spontaneous combustion, but at least you don't have to paddle your way to class.
