I flew to Los Angeles yesterday.
The first half of the trip was uneventful, but during the second half the plane hit some turbulence. When the captain told us to fasten our seat belts because of "a little chop ahead," I got a feeling of dread, and when the plane started to shake, my palms got sweaty.
I've been in worse. And when I looked around at my fellow passengers, none seemed concerned. They were engrossed in the movie, or reading, or sleeping.
Nonetheless, I found myself wondering, would I rather be on a plane trip where nothing happens other than some turbulence, or be in a car accident at, say, 35 miles per hour?
I actually decided I'd rather be in the car accident. Afterward I'd be more angry, as there would be financial consequences, but at least I wouldn't have to experience that crippling fear.
Umar and friends haven't exactly helped cure me of this phobia.
Not looking forward to the return flight on Monday.