Forgetting to Panic


I forgot to panic.

Two weeks ago I had a business trip that included air travel. I used to HATE flying because I needed a seat belt extension. Sometimes I got crafty with sweaters and hid the fact that I wasn’t buckled in. I’d spend the whole flight wondering when I was going to get called out by the flight attendant. That’s no way to fly.

After losing some weight airline seat belts began to fit. But I still had a sense of dread as I boarded the plane. Actually it felt more like panic than dread. I feared the seat belts might very in size a little bit from seat to seat and even a fraction of an inch could mean the difference between buckling in and embarrassment.

As time went on the amount of belt left over after buckling got longer and longer. (Yes, I actually measured using my thumb as a makeshift inch. Sad but true. Sigh.) But I continued to fear the belt wouldn’t buckle.

Fast forward to my recent trip. I forgot to panic. I. Forgot. To. Panic. It wasn’t until I was comfortably buckled in that I realized I hadn’t even wondered if the belt would fit.

I’ve decided I like not panicking. I’m already looking forward to my next flight.

 

 

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