Everyone complains about airports, and I understand why, but I have never once been unhappy in one.
There is something about being suspended between two places — accountable to neither — that I find enormously calming. You are, for a few hours, nobody's anything. Not an employee, not a daughter, not a friend running late. Just a body moving toward a gate.
I've done some of my clearest thinking in airport chairs that were too small for genuine rest, with a coffee that was too expensive, watching strangers reunite through glass.