Step 1

Okay, I need to vent a little this morning. Just a little freaked out, a little puffy-faced from crying. A little secret about me, well-known to my family and friends...

I’m afraid to fly.

Scratch that, I’m terrified. A take-an-Ativan, have-a-couple-double-gin-and-tonics, actually-let’s-make-that-two-Ativan kind of terrified.

I mean flying on airplanes. Not me flying myself. Actually if I could personally fly, I think I’d be less afraid. Because it’s all about control. In that plane way too far above the earth and much too close to 40,000ft, I am completely powerless. It is the ultimate Step 1 in life, and I am a stereotypical Al Anon in this area. I am surrendering all decisions and my temporary safety and well-being to a complete stranger. I mean, who IS this guy anyway? Who wants to fly planes for a living? Do they do psych testing every so often to make sure he’s okay? How long has he been doing this? I hope he’s not joining me in being under the influence. Oh, and I am so glad I haven’t seen “Flight” yet.

Did I mention there are thunderstorms brewing here?

But alas, in a few hours I have to board a very small plane and fly back home from a short but sweet family-time trip. I will think about my pets, the laws of physics, and my husband, who did not do a great job of comforting me this morning when I texted him, crying, after finding out my flight was on this small jet. He did say he was sorry, he was the one who booked it. If it would have been me I would have noticed and booked another flight. Still would have been terrified but slightly less so in a larger plane, perhaps with wifi.

So I cried and cried thinking, I don’t want to leave here, I don’t want to get on that small jet. That I wish I could return home to a loving affectionate husband who missed me while I was gone and called me to see how I was doing, just once. Really, I just want to get home at all. But us Al Anon’s can’t resist a good pity party, not when we have the opportunity to get all frumped-up in our best hooded sweatshirt and ruin our mascara before we’ve even applied it.

Blogger stats tell me I have readers out there, and some of you are overseas, which is incredibly flattering. So if you could collectively hope and pray and send positive vibes, I would be forever grateful. And I promise to return to our regularly-scheduled posting as soon as I get back.