Whenever I'm taking off or landing in a plane, the two most critical moments, I think about the various ways we can crash and burn. Would I die in a fire? Would I get out alive but be paralyzed? Would I still be attached to my seat? Are these the people who will see me last? Then my heart breaks when I think of Mike being alone.
I wonder what kind of cancer I'm going to have. I'm convinced my breasts are going to kill me. My tiny lady lumps of death. Will it be a bump or invasive? Will I lose my hair? Would Mike shave his head in solidarity? Would I lose weight or get really effing fat?
The cat trips me all the time. Luckily I catch myself but that doesn't stop me thinking about the ways I can fall into the counter and break something. Also, I don't have any stairs in my home- what about stairs? The cat is going to trip me at the top of the stairs. I know it. How far I will fall? How will I land? Will I snap my neck or will I just break my teeth? Will I pee myself when I break my neck?
When I slip in the shower will I grab the curtain so no one finds me naked?
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