I'm feeling particularly blue today.
I haven't gotten a flight assignment in nine days. That's NINE days of having to sit around my house, being on Ready-Reserve, just waiting for the Crew Desk to call. I don't do life on the ground very well when it lasts this long.
I'm just staring out at my patio, which was my personal smoking haven. When I quit, I broke it all down and put it away. No rocking chair, no table, no lamp, no magazine rack, no nothing out there anymore. It's a barren block of cement. I can't imagine ever enjoying being out on the patio ever again.
However, at this moment, I CAN imagine going out there to have a cigarette. No, no, I'm not going to. But I'm sort of daydreaming about it... And it bothers me that it actually sounds kinda good. My Quit is iron-clad. I won't do it. I know that for certain.
But I kinda want to.
