I would rather go to the dentist than go to the airport. I would rather go to the gym than go to the airport. I would rather go to
church than go to the airport. The entire process—missing your train, waiting, waiting, getting there, finding your way around, checking in, going through security, getting undressed, removing your laptop, showing your identification to three different people, submitting to an additional random search, collecting your things, getting dressed again, sweating, crumpling your papers, making your way to the terminal, waiting, waiting, waiting, boarding the plane, waiting some more—is exhausting. But you know this. The flight was smooth, though terribly uncomfortable; either I have gained more weight than I realized, or planes are getting smaller.
