seasonal perceptive distorter

There's this particular phenomenon that occurs only in the cold weather time. It happens when you've been outside, waiting for the bus, or hoofin' it because you aren't expecting it to come anytime soon, and then the bus comes, and you hop on. And you've got your headphones on, so you can't hear what's going on around you. And your glasses have suddenly fogged up from the change in temperature, so you can't see who else is on the bus. And your brain becomes a little fuzzy because you suddenly are very warm. And since you don't know who's around you or what they're saying, you lose that slightly on-edge feeling you normally have on the bus, or anywhere else there might be a moderately sized group of people who may or may not judge you. And you feel a little bit like you're on some sort of drug, and you feel a little bit like you've always wanted to: not caring what anyone else thinks about you at all, consumed in whatever music is being pumped into your ears at close range.

This phenomenon reared its beautiful head in my life for the first time this year the other day. Thank the heavens for the turn toward colder weather.

(To be fair, I do prefer cold weather to hot, but more than anything it's the seasonal transition that puts me into a good mental space. It keeps things from stagnating the way they otherwise might. Have I written about this before? You can dock me blog points on that weird fantasy blog stock exchange thing if I did.)