“Hey babe, just wanted to call and say ‘I love you’. Don’t delete this message in case my flight crashes, that way you have a recording of my voice. bye!”
That’s the message I leave my husband as I board my 15 hour flight from Sydney to Dallas. In all of the traveling I’ve done I’ve never remotely had a fear of my plane crashing and dying. Possibly a fear of crashing in a remote area and having to come together as a group and ward off cannibalism, but never a fear of crashing and dying. I do have a few fears of flying though – and like everything else in my life they’re completely irrational.
Dying of boredom. For some strange reason I am afraid of being absolutely and utterly bored on the flight – although it has never been an issue. On my last long haul I managed to read 1 1/2 books, watch 15 episodes of TV comedies, 2 movies, and write in my journal, and that was all under the influence of multiple dosages of Tylenol PM which I now have decided must be defective. Or I’m a superhero and am immune to it. (I’ll take suggestions for the superhero name just in case it’s the latter)
Famishing mid flight. In addition to the three meals and snacks that Qantas fed me I still felt it necessary to purchase both a sweet and savoury snack and a beverage to take aboard “just in case”. I am convinced that’s what my travel induced cankles fed on to get to such an impressive size.
People talking to me. Everyone knows I’m a talker, there’s no point in even trying to downplay that. When I’m on a flight though, don’t talk to me. It’s my quiet, alone time in which I can bask in the solace of books I want to read and movies that Rob refuses to see with me. I even go to the length of putting on my headphones even though they are not plugged into anything just to have uninterrupted me time.
Motion sickness. Let’s face it, I get sick during 3D movies. I remember family road trips throughout the US with my parents having to pull over to hose me down and change my clothes. I can do nothing during the take off and landing but sit there with my eyes closed and head back until we get to our cruising altitude. If there’s any turbulence, I’m totally screwed (so are the people within a four seat radius of me).
Luckily Rob was able to delete this voicemail