I have it on good authority that airplanes weigh approximately fourty million pounds. I just don’t understand how they stay in the air. It makes zero sense. It’s complete rocket Surgery to me.
I’m going to sit in a chair in the sky, and I’m the one that’s unreasonably nervous?
Anxiety disorder is a strange place to live, of the thousands of scenarios I’ve concocted, all but one has fallen away. I’m feeling pretty confident about my trip once I arrive in Ireland. The airplane trip, not so much. I am reading a lot about calming techniques, and breathing. It’s one thing for me to be an incompetent nervous freak show, but I don’t want to visit that on the other flyers just trying to enjoy a peaceful flight. I’m pretty sure they’ll notice when my face turns inside out, and I crap myself. Perfume, a mask, and an extra pair of britches are my only hope, that will be inconspicuous. Maybe there will be a Domino’s guy on my plane, then I can just eat my feelings, like I usually do.
Once again my blog saves the day, at least I can make myself laugh.
Looking forward to blogging the beautiful sights and sounds of Ireland, instead of this raging lunacy.
Stay tuned, I might just blow ya’alls minds with my brilliant photography, witty banter, and fierce independence!
Tomorrow’s the day!!!!