You sure as hell wouldn’t know it to look at me lately. A quick tally in my head shows that I’ve taken 22 separate flights this year. I have at least 8 more planned. I’ve been to NYC 4 times (with two more in the works) and San Diego once (with one more trip planned). I’ve been to Vegas, London, Scotland, and Venice. I’ve traveled more this year than in all the years before it combined and somewhere in there I’ve conquered my fear of flying almost completely.

It used to be that when I flew, I spent all of take-off through to the announcement that I could use my “portable electronics as long as the internal transmitters remain off” praying that I made it to my destination safely. Now I’m already watching the in-flight TV and working on a crossword puzzle before passengers are finished boarding. In the past, the slightest bit of turbulence had me clutching the armrests and praying again. Now I barely notice it when the captain turns on the seatbelt sign and my letters become squiggly from the bumps. And landing always had me looking out the window and waiting for us to be save on the ground. A couple flights ago I didn’t even noticed until I felt the telltale bump of us hitting the runway, and even that barely registered.

I don’t know where this change occurred, but I’m glad it did. It feels great to be one of those people I used to envy for being so relaxed on a flight. It sure makes my traveling experience much less stressful.

Now if security could get their head out of their ass and move faster and JFK could work a little harder at being on time, traveling would be perfect.