When I was little, I was so scared of flying that the second I got on the plane, I would curl myself up into a ball in my seat and force myself to fall asleep.
My rationalization? It would be better to die sleeping during takeoff than awake. Because, like, if the plane were to crash during takeoff, I’d totally sleep during it.
This is the face of a cute, cute idiot.
Now when I’m really stressed out, I force myself to take a nap. BECAUSE SLEEP IS AN EFFECTIVE MEANS OF STRESS CONTROL, and also, it’s amazing and wonderful and I love it more than I love boobs. And we all know how much I love boobs.
Last week I went back to New York for a writer’s conference. My flight there was delayed four (FOUR!) hours because, like, stupid airplane stuff. Mechanical issues. You know, like, something…
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