Don't worry, my plane didn't crash. In fact, I sat next to the nicest people I've ever sat next to on a plane. It was quite refreshing, and ruined the flight home by raising my hopes that this, THIS! could be meeting new people, all sunshine and rainbows and happiness. Instead, the guy next to me was an armrest hog and a man across the aisle from me started to hyperventilate or something and the flight attendants were considering taking our plane off the runway and back to the gate to get him some help. Luckily, he was okay. But still, not the flight I had optimistically looked forward to all weekend.
Not that I was looking forward to leaving. We found a nice apartment, which reduced my general anxiety level by about 40%. There's still 50% left nagging at me about finding a job (and 10% that just never goes away, because I am a worrier), so I may not have anything to do once I get out there, but at least I have someplace to do nothing in. And it has a walk-in closet. I'm pretty sure I looked like a crazy person at every apartment we looked at, because I'd say something about the size of the closets. And everyone would be all, yes, this is what grown ups have, they have closets. Did you miss the gas fireplace, or the tennis court, or the indoor/outdoor pool? Because those are generally the things that excite people.
Oh, moving to a city is going to be quite the experience.