Southwest Flight 3865

Dear God,

I do not know a real prayer for flying (is there one?), but I hope this will suffice. Please make sure we all arrive at our destinations safely and smoothly. Please, also, let there be no scary turbulence or screaming children. If for some reason it must be one or the other, I’d prefer turbulence to screaming children as long as it’s under control, and not that scary. Please take note.

We’re taking off now. Once again, and sorry to be repetitive, but please help us all get to our destinations safely and soundly. Thank you. I’m very fond of my life, and I don’t want to lose it, if that’s cool with you. By the way, thanks for all that life stuff, and the people in it, and all the joys and beauty in the world. I know I probably don’t say it enough. (That said, this war and killing stuff has got to go. Are You really working fulltime on that, or what?)

Since You’re listening, God, I have a few more things I’d like to go over with You. As mentioned I’m very grateful for all the wonderful people, experiences, comforts, yada yada in my life, but to be honest, everything is not as copasetic as it could be, You know. I mean, I’m thankful for the majority of it, but just a few hours ago when my roommate dropped me off at the airport and informed me that she’s moving out, and I have eleven days to find a new roommate before our lease expires and I’m fucked… I’m not really thankful for that. I suppose I should have faith that all things have some greater purpose, even this new roommate situation, but God, you know me well enough to know that whole "what's meant to be will be" song and dance doesn’t really jibe with me. You can make lemonade out of lemons, sure, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have been better off with oranges in the first place, You get what I’m saying?

I know the only time You really hear from me these days is when I think that maybe I’m about to die, but please don’t hold that against me. If You can help me find a roommate who is not crazy, preferably before my lease runs out and I have to be all homeless, I would be most appreciative. Thanks.

Dear God, why is it all failed wannabe stand up comedians, once they realize they don’t have what it takes, decide to become flight attendants? It’s really not fair. We have no choice but to listen to them ramble on and on over that God-awful (sorry) intercom thing. There’s literally no escape. I can just imagine that thought process: “Well, I’ve been booed off every stage I’ve ever gone on, but I swear I have talent! I swear I am funny! If only there were some way to get a roomful of people together for a two-hour plus set, lock them up, suspend them in the air so they can't leave, and forbid them to get out of their seats. Aha! I’ve got it! Flight attendant school, here I come!” Not cool.

What else, G? I guess You have a pretty good sense of what I’m up to these days, with that whole all-powerful, omnipresent thing You have going on. Life is fairly good (minus that roommate shit). Job’s going really well. Please don’t fuck that up, okay? (That was more to me than You.) I still don’t have a boyfriend. Surprise, surprise. If this long period of solitude is somehow "meant to be" as well, fine, but You should know an active sex life can be just as meaningful. Really. Think about it.

Ok, we’re landing. Once again, please try not to kill us on the way down. Please please please please please please please….

Awesome. I’ve not died. Thanks, God.

Talk to you on the return flight.

Amen,
Lijah