We are an Easter people, as St. Augustine put it. More specifically, I seem to be an Easter Tuesday person, as that's generally when I finish shaking the dust of Lent from my feet and get back to normal life (thus making me a Shrove Tuesday person as well).
Yet the Easter season drags on for weeks. Long after I've recovered from the physical privations (such as they were) of Lent and rebounded from the psychological desolations (see prev.) of Holy Week, I'm still supposed to go about making Alleluia my song. Am I merely imagining a touch of "can we get on with it" in the disciples' Easter season question to Jesus, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?"
Still, there may be a lesson in this for me, over and above the fact that the Church continues to not construct herself to fit my druthers. It may be that the joy of Easter is a thing too great to be sustained by physical or psychological means; that it is an act of love for God, and that flagging joy signals flagging love; that he who is tired of Easter is tired of eternal life.