Like many people that come back from a short jaunt to Las Vegas, I am suffering. For other people, the suffering is usually related to a lack of sleep due to late nights of drunken debauchery. I, on the other hand, am suffering from being an old fart. What did me in was a deadly cocktail of a time zone changes, tons of walking, a surprise migraine, a delay on the return flight, and a series of bad decisions.
Bad Decision #1: We sandwiched the 3 night trip with no extra time off on either end. The 2 hour flight delay on the return trip didn't help; 4 hours of sleep feels exponentially less than 6 hours. I am way too old for this kind of travel; I need recoup time before I get thrown back into work.
Bad Decision #2: I decided to wear my cute kicks rather than my more functional (i.e. not fashionable) running shoes. Walking from 10am to 8pm in mediocre shoes lead to feet/calves that were so sore that I'm still feeling the pain days later. Stupid, stupid vanity.
Bad Decision #3: I managed to acquire a big, beautiful bruise on my ass when I decided to hop into the back seat of a taxi and landed hard on a fixed belt buckle. Note to self: In the future, enter a taxi with less abandon. It's not too often you get to say 'owww, my coccyx!' but I promise that when you do, you'll remember it.
Re-reading this, I realize that it sounds like I had a terrible time, which was definitely not the case. It was actually a lot more fun than I expected, I'd even go back. I plan on posting on my specific topics later (i.e. restos, shopping, etc.) but I just wanted to get the lamenting out of the way. Look, it's us at Otto, smiling: