Survival of yet another plane ride

Yesterday a US Airways jetliner flew into a flock of birds and lost power in both engines. It had to make an emergency landing in the Hudson River and all 155 passengers had to climb out into the freezing water.

Perhaps you aren't aware of my fear of flying. I hate flying. I dread it. My ears become super sensitive and pick up on every single noise, afraid that they all must mean something is defective in the plane and we're going to crash. Every person I see looks suspicious and I map out escape routes in my head, what I'd do in a freak situation, like it'd happen. My over-active imagination gets the best of me, once again. Yes, I'm one of those people who sits with their eyes scrunched up abnormally tight, gripping the arm rests until their knuckles are white, their lips moving quickly in silent prayer of survival.

And yesterday while that plane was crashing into the Hudson River, I was in the air.

I arrived in DC yesterday, safely, no problems, no glitches, no emergency landings in the Potomac. I guess I was pretty lucky. No one died from the US Airways flight, but still. If that was me, I'd lock myself in my apartment with episodes of I Love Lucy and never get on a plane again. It's freak accidents like that that mess with my head. If it happens once, it can happen again, I think. Perfectly logical, right?

Needless to say, I will not be flying back on Monday. I think I'll stay here on N Street with Rachel for awhile more until Harry Potter comes to America and teaches me how disapparate or use Floo powder or a portkey to get back to Storrs. I don't trust those planes. How does it even stay in the air anyway? Yes, I think I'll stay here. Barack needs me here to become his personal assistant, anyway.



Thought for the Day: This will never happen to me