21 Days

It has been, or will be this evening 21 days since my last cigarette...sounds like the beginning of a confession-huh? That's 504 hours, 30,240 minutes, 907,200 seconds...etc. Well maybe it is a confession on the eve of my potential death.

Tomorrow I have to get on an airplane--I'm supposed to be heading to Atlanta for DragonCon and I hate flying. It will be hell for about 90 minutes or so of sheer freakin terror for me...on a good day. That in itself is enough to start smoking again but the weather is going to complicate matters with a little hurricane/tropical storm named Ernesto. So this is bound to be interesting. It always seems that when I do work up the gumption to fly--some form of crap like this always arises...must be my luck I guess.

This is why I usually take trains or drive. But every once in a while I have these little attacks of confidence that tell me...You can do it and its no big deal. And they always say...its so much safer to fly. But you know what--there aren't any breakdown lanes up there is there?

I can offer no explanation as to why I hate flying so much. I have flown...I don't know...maybe a hundred times and you would think I would be used to it. But no. I pretty much sit through the flight in terror, palms sweating and in complete control of the armrests. Word of advice-if you ever fly with me--don't touch MY armrests!

I really hate...and I mean REALLY HATE those people that sleep on flights. I know that's not nice but its sooooo true! I have stayed awake for days prior to a long flight so that I too might be able to sleep--but no. I just end up wired even worse.

It will probably take me a day to wind down from the flight but by then I am getting wound up for the return flight--go figure. Side note: Read my short story, Have a Nice Flight!

So I am thinking that I will pack a cigarette with me...if the damn plane goes down, I'll smoke the bastard on the way down...what are they going to do, arrest me? At least I'll die happy:)