While other passengers busy themselves pretending to switch their small handheld devices into airplane mode, I listen to the safety information speech, intently, taking detailed mental notes of all exits and the individuals manning those areas. I look them up and down, thinking, “Does this person look responsible?” I assess their competence based upon appearance. Argyle sweater vest? Okay, that’s a good sign. Sweater vests are a sure sign of reliability and hidden heroism.

After the plane takes off and starts aggressively gaining altitude, I enter what I like to refer to as my Any Minute Now stage. As in, any minute now the engine is either going to fail or explode and my fear-stricken body will go crashing to the ground. Once the plane stabilizes I relax a little, moving from a state of sheer panic to a mode of General Suspicion (so still on guard and aware of my surroundings, but not plagued with heart-racing anxiety). I tend to stay in this state until final descent, at which point I’m so emotionally enhausted I just close my eyes and hope the landing gear (and the pilot) does what it’s supposed to do.