relapse.

i know better than this. i really do.

and yet how many different news sites did i click on this afternoon? half a dozen, easily - wide-eyed, hand instinctively pressed against the center of my collarbone, taking in the pictures of an airplane slowly sinking into the hudson.

holy. shit.

i am not a good flyer. it was a gradual, somewhat inexplicable devolution from care-free college student who happily flew out of logan in a blinding blizzard to, a few short years later, a white-knuckled 20-something trying to remind herself to breathe during take-off. xanax is the only thing that stopped the downward spiral, and now i don't leave home (ok, don't leave home for the airport!) without it. and i had just - just - gotten to a place where i can open a crossword puzzle and not need to focus on every dip and shift of our ascent to 10,000 feet, or who can continue reading my book while the landing gear comes down and the pools and rooftops come into focus.

then i saw masses of people standing on the wings of a plane. which would be cool, you know, if it were on land instead of partially submerged in a frigid river.

it's a really good thing i'm not flying for another two months. perhaps i should try hypnosis?