So I told him I it might not happen because I was really struggling and he said, "Struggling? You should read about that girl who learned to fly even though she was born without arms."
Yes, last year Jessica Cox, 25-year-old motivational speaker from Arizona with no arms got a sport pilot license after training for three years in various unmodified Ercoupes. A sport pilot license is strikingly similar to a private pilot license, except you can't fly at night and need approval to go in certain airspaces. And you don't have to pass an FAA medical, if you have a drivers license you can start.
Anyway in her interview about the experience she also said it was tough, and she also thought about quitting, but it was mostly because airplanes are made for people with arms. She didn't mention having trouble with landings. Maybe she didn't notice. Sort of like when I go clothes shopping with women who are not six feet tall and their standards for "clothes that fit" are so much higher from mine? I'm too busy looking for big obvious things to notice the little frustrations they point out. We struggle on totally different levels.
So for this and other reasons, I'm probably not going to quit flying. But I am still taking the weekend off to try to relax and not think about it. I've got some website code work to do, did some sewing, washed some clothes, we watched "The Three Amigos". I've been going through old livejournal entries adding tags, so maybe I can get some big tags besides the "flying" one that's been used so much lately. The journal is funny because I frequently have these spells in my life where I'm talking about one big thing. When marc and I got together in October 2005, I was apologizing over and over for talking about the same thing. But when I read the story from the beginning it plays out like a great movie, and I was always getting lots of comments. Same with grad school, and the marriage amendment saga, and all these little chapters of my life. No matter how this flying story ends it is a chapter, and it makes for good reading, and the experience is priceless. Am I obsessed and overthinking it on a near-unhealthy level? Maybe. But if nothing ever finds its way into taking up your whole head, are you really living?