Last Thursday, on the way out of class, I was pretty badly spooked by a student arguing with a street preacher in front of the student union center. Despite knowing, logically, that those people had no interest in me, seeing and hearing that kid shout obscenities in the face of an annoying street preacher sent a wave of adrenaline rushing through my veins. 

I managed to keep myself calm; my mind successfully prevented my body from sprinting away from a not-very-threatening situation as though I had a tiger on my ass. But damn… it took everything I had to stay calm and “act natural” despite every nerve in my body screaming at me to run away like my life depended on it. 

It took me hours to stop shivering from that unexpected (and un-dealt-with) rush of fear, even though I logically knew that my fear was entirely unwarranted. Keyword: un-dealt-with. 

Then, starting yesterday, the weather began to change rapidly. Very strong, very dry, cold winds and rushing clouds have finally announced the arrival of fall. 

I’ve always been sensitive to changes in the weather, both great and small. My intuition rarely fails to accurately predict the weather, even when the weatherman fails to do so. Consequently, even though I’m extremely healthy physically, my body still reacts to rapid changes in weather in very strange, uncomfortable ways, especially when I’m already stressed. 

This time around, my left nostril decided to clog up and hasn’t unclogged since, no matter what I’ve tried to clear it out. It's not infected, just full. My lips and mouth have also dried out, likely in response to the increased anxiety I’ve been feeling. Worse, I haven’t been hiding my anxiety all that well, either. 

The transition from summer to winter in Colorado is always a bit chaotic and stressful, all by itself. As I think of it now, we don’t really get a true autumn here. Usually, it’s close to 80 or 90 degrees one day, then a massive cold front comes in and forces that temperature down to 40 or lower the next day. 

The cold, dense air rockets down the foothills and through the canyons to fill in the gaps left by the hot air on the plains. Sometimes, that wind is strong enough to bring down mature trees and flip over semi-trucks. Other times, it’s just strong enough to kick summer out and howl through the branches. However, any dry cold front has the potential to fuel massive wildfires, like the one that happened in Superior, Colorado a few years ago.