Fear of flying

I'm not afraid of flying. I'm afraid of crashing.

Not desperately afraid, not the kind of afraid where I grip the armrests and pray out loud for God to spare my life and start sweating and swearing and drinking. Just inwardly scared.

You know why?

Because I have kids now. I'm not afraid to fly when my kids are with me. It's just that every time I board a plane without them now, I find myself praying feverishly that my kids need their mother, and please God please keep me safe because they'd never get over it, and what the hell am I doing flying to Omaha for this job this is crazy, is there anything I can do from home where I don't need to even leave the house and could still make the house payment and eat?

I suppose this is normal. My first boss in this industry was this crazy whirling dervish from Romania. She travelled around the world and did great, until one day when she was flying for work she had a panic attack. The reason? She had two daughters, and she was suddenly afraid to fly for fear of them losing their mother. She started flying with Xanax.

My friend Tina went through the same thing. She has three kids. I don't know if she ever flew with Xanax, but I know she suddenly found herself afraid to fly.

I know the statistics, I know it's safer than climbing into my car every day. Except for the part where my car won't give me the flu or rotovirus or something.

I'm an equal opportunity anxiety-ist. Last week on my way to a lunch in Washington, Missouri, I drove by this accident. I saw it up close. I wondered why the radio reports were only mentioning two schoolbuses and a tractor trailer?

I've decided to look for a new career. Clearly, hard work is out of the question. It must be something that pays a lot of money and requires very little of me. I could play the lottery for reals! But only if I could guarantee winning, that's the tricky part. Hmmmm. This is going to be harder than it sounds.

- H