I have aviophobia. I think 2021 sounds like a good time to get on an airplane. Here’s why.

I put my bottle of pills on the tray table in front of me to convince my seemingly incapable hands to steady and open the damn xanax. Ah, fuck. I pushed too hard and the bottle fell over right as I got it open.

“How many is that today?” says my spouse, with great concern.

Two. Because I haven’t put anymore in my mouth yet. Because they all spilled.

The flight attendant comes by for drink service after we level off and I ask for a vodka tonic.

The pills aren’t working. We just got up to altitude and its going to be three hours until we land and the pills are not working. Maybe I can force them to work by passing out.

I’m ok. Its okay.

I try to distract myself.

Oh no. Nope, not ok.

Still shaking visibly, about to throw up, oh God I think i’m talking louder than I realized.

Another vodka tonic please.

I think to myself: Clearly, we are going to crash, because I had a great vacation. And, as we all know- the payment for me having a good time has to be catastrophic.

I start crying and am still shaking. The flight attendant looks worried the next time she walks by.

Oh my God I’m going to get flagged for this by the TSA, aren’t I.