Vegas nerves. That's what I call the inability to sleep more than about 4 hours when I'm in Las Vegas. The last couple times I've been there it's been pronounced. Sometimes I profit from it, like when I woke and showered at 5:45am and went down to the poker room at the Luxor and cleaned up against the drunk tourists who'd been up all night. At one point one guy's girlfriend actually leaned over and sniffed me, and announced to the table "hey, no fair, he just got up, he hasn't been up all night like you guys."
Other times it's just a nuisance, and it results in fatigue and a tendency to drink way too heavily to balance the jitters.
But this is the first time it's started before I even get on the plane. Here it is, 12:27am CST. The bags are packed and the girls are tucked in. Maybe it's the fact that my mom, who was going to be watching over the girls, has been sick with stomach flu and can't really take them in. Maybe it's the fact that one of my surgical incisions from May opened up and began bleeding a bit today, resulting in a trip to the doctor. Which in itself resulted in me getting 3 shots to my belly to numb me, so the doc could poke around the wound and scrape out any bad stuff. I'm referring to this as the first time I've visited Las Vegas with a lucky bleeding belly hole. What it was, was a piece of dissolvable suture that didn't quite dissolve, and worked its way out. Doc says the hole will close in a few days, no problem. Now I'll fit right in with that guy with the seeping tracheotomy bandage I saw on my trip to the Gold Spike. Just another freak in the freak kingdom.
The taxi comes at 4:30am to take us to O'Hare. I'll try and give y'all some good stories when we get back. Enjoy the rest of the week.