We left on a trip last evening to fly to our daughter's house for a late family Christmas and to celebrate our granddaughter's first birthday. The plan was to change planes at Chicago O'Hare after a brief layover and fly the rest of the way, arriving just close to midnight. At least, that was the plan. But because of airport problems in Chicago we circled for awhile, then had to divert to Milwaukee for fuel, before flying back to O'Hare. Missed our flight to our destination (the last of the night), rebooked for later today. Tried (unsucessfully) to sleep on a cot, as did many other people here. Every half hour a prerecorded annoucement reminded everyone that "smoking isn't allowed inside the terminal," as if we didn't already have that drummed into our sleep-deprived minds. Sooooo, we are here this morning for a few hours.
Now, I've had layovers here a number of times, waiting near where we are now. To say that I haven't had an urge to slip outside for a cig or two, as I usually did, would be a lie. I have, several times. Last night I was so stressed I told my wife I was really tempted to do just that. But I haven't, and I won't. It won't make things any better or less stressful. I won't get the "ahhh" relief I want, since nicotine is long gone from my system. Besides that, it's just too cold outside.
N.O.P.E., IDDTA (="I don't do that anymore"). Thinking of all the good things the week will bring when we finally get there.