A post from Friday morning where I mull on an irrational fear.

I'm writing this post from a plane, which is currently hitting some bumps, probably over the plains of the midwest. I already had my bloody mary to calm my nerves, but now I wish I could have another. When did I convince myself that a plane can drop out of the sky at any moment, and that my incessant worrying might be the only thing that could keep it airborne? I find myself willing the plane to stay afloat among the clouds. It doesn't help that the book I'm reading (Cutting for Stone) just revealed a subplot where a pilot flying over Africa simply cut the engine in a plane and faked an emergency landing because the flight tower wouldn't clear him for landing otherwise. He ended up grounding the plane without killing anyone, but now I find myself asking, "How easy is it to just 'cut the engine'"?! Damn.

I just remembered I have to get on another plane after this one lands. That will be a feat.