Got a flight. Not on an Airbus. Making the distinction is probably pointless, but allows me to assert a smidgen of control as I yield my life into the hands of engineers, mechanics, pilots, and whatever other personnel can influence whether I live or die on my next trip through the air.
(Query: is space opera my version of horror fiction? Is dying outside planetary atmosphere really any worse?)
Next I’ll have to organize places to stay in London and Cambridge, since I’m not actually planning to die before I get there (the scholar’s maximum horror: I will find out something crucial and die on the way home, before I can do anything about it!). Oxford and Exeter are taken care of already. I have a couple of familiar London hotels to contact, but I’ve never been to Cambridge: any advice, either about lodging or dealing with CUL?
(Ignore the jitters. I always do this. This is what Xanax is for. Better research through chemistry.)