I spent the hours before my flight prepping myself
The moment I got to the airport, I took a Dramamine to keep me from vomiting all over the conveyor belt at the TSA checkpoint. As the minutes ticked down before boarding, I spent some time looking over the conversation transcript I had with my pilot friend, watched some more YouTube videos, and casually sipped a beer at the airport bar. I put together a playlist of music (mostly '80s new wave and '60s bossa nova) to drown out the sounds of the airplane, and breathed deeply whenever I felt any signs of panic.
I fucking flew, dammit!
Sure, my trip wasn’t without clenched fists and bouts of sweaty dry-heaves in a locked airplane lavatory, but I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of elation I got when I looked out the window and realized I had conquered my fear. I was so proud, I decided to reward myself with another nip of JD, and maybe one more after that.
And yes, my girlfriend rewarded me with many pizzas.
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