Bad At Planes Pt. 1

 I do not do planes very gracefully. It comes in waves, but usually I am filled with extreme dread as my flight draws nearer, until a few hours before take off when I am weirdly calm. The calm lasts until the vehicle actually starts moving, whereupon there are serious premonitions of death once more. 

I dislike almost everything about flying, but my most prominent fear is that there will be a mechanical failure be it prompted by the weather or completely unprecedented. The result is a religious awakening. As I am tossed up and down, hurtling through the air in a glorified metal pipe, I become religious for the first time since my last airplane ride. Suddenly there is a god, and I am a compassionate human being who demands more time to spread love around as if it were the new Chlamydia.