On days like this I want to have flown more than I want to fly. A single take-off and landing will bring me to a total of three this week, which means I can remain current until February with no further action on my part — useful over the winter months.
I keep putting it off. But I could fly, why not prioritize it?
My confidence is lacking, I’ve been running behind the plane for the last few flights. The obvious fix for this is to fly more … but it takes the pleasure out of flying when you are fighting to keep up. I feel stressed and frightened rather than excited and adventurous. It becomes a chore.
My partner tries to be supportive but God knows he wins no awards for patience. He helps me through the basics but it’s with sulkiness and difficulty both sides. The moment he makes an imperfect statement, I’m right there going for the throat, finally able to get my own back for his (justified) sniping. The whole thing ends up a negative experience.
I want to fly. But I wish I’d flown more before I needed to fly…