These days travel is part of the job. You simply have to do it from time-to-time. But I have grown to detest traveling. First, you have to leave the people you want to be with and second, you have to leave your comfort zone making the travel stressful. Today, I am due to head to London for several days on a business trip. Here is what I am facing...

Arrive at the airport 2 hours before flight time. Line up with hundreds of others on the flight and wait, wait and wait for Ryanair to show up an start processing passengers. They will open the areas I am not lined up for and everyone will rush forward suddenly like a herd of cows headed for milking. When finally checked in, I will go through security - what a joy - and then wait, wait and wait again until we board. Boarding will also resemble milking time for the cows as we all scramble to find a reasonable seat. Then, I will wait, wait and wait again until we finally land.

The last time I took this flight I had a headache. I found a window seat and to my surprise, the two seats next to me didn't fill up - that is until right before the doors closed. I then found myself sat next to a posh English woman and her precocious daughter who spent the entire 1 hour and 45 minutes practicing counting at what appeared to be a shouting level. Can you imagine listening to 1 through 20, always missing 11 for 1 hour and 45 minutes? I wanted to scream, I wanted to strangle and I wanted the little girl to remember that 11 follows 10.

Anyway - we land at Stansted - what a horrible airport - and then like cows headed for milking, rush off the plane only to wait, wait and wait for our baggage and then wait, wait and wait to go through immigration. But once out of the airport, it gets worse.... now I sit on a train into London for 50 minutes - always assuming I can find a seat. On arrival at Liverpool St. I fight through more milking cow crowds and grab a cab to my hotel. I then sit watching the meter tick by in horror desperately hoping that we will arrive before the total displayed is greater than the amount in my wallet.

Once at the hotel, most likely I will wait, wait and wait to check in. By this time, I'm exhausted and just want to collapse onto a bed. And all the time I'm thinking about those I left behind and wondering for the billionth time - why the hell do I have to travel?

No doubt I'll also be horrified at the growing hole in my bank account as I pay over inflated and ridiculous prices for everything and anything in London. How does anyone actually afford to live there? At least it's an expenses paid trip........

I HATE traveling these days.....