Fucking Fuck

This news brief was the first thing I saw online when I booted up my computer this morning. I'm trying not to freak out, because really there's no reason the King would have been flying yesterday. None. For sure. Fuck. I'm trying really hard not to get hysterical, because I know he's fine and I'm sure I'll hear from him soon. I got an e-mail from him this morning (just after I read that damned article) saying he's well and has been busy, and that it's raining there. It was written before the plane crash, though, so of course I'm still totally freaked out. He would have mentioned it, I'm sure, if he was flying anywhere. Unless he kept it from me because he wouldn't want me to worry. There's no point in crying and throwing things at the wall now, because the soonest he could possibly contact me would be if he called late tonight, and that's unlikely given the poor phone situation there, so more likely he might be able to e-mail me tomorrow. So until then, I might as well just not worry. Yeah right. Fuck.