Leaving Las Vegas

...But with slightly less BAC than Nicholas Cage's character...

Actually, far less. I'm sitting at the bar one last night, but only for a few brews to help relax a little. I haven't had much sleep this week. The walls are rather poor sound barriers. One couple on one side have been bitterly yelling at each other. In Chinese. The other couple are late-night partiers, and early morning fu... Err... Well, the are in Vegas. You'd think my turning up the TV would give them the hint, but I guess they just don't care.

I fly out in the morning, only to be stuck in Atlanta for 3 hours, then to land in Rochester at 11:30 PM. In a bit of a snowstorm according to the forecast. So I'll be lugging my suitcase across a snowy parking lot with inadequate footwear, and will need to scrape off the likely layers of ice and cruft that built up, all because I figured I'd save 20 bucks by not parking in the garage. Really thought that one through. *sigh*

I figure I could sleep for days after all this, but I still have a pile of work to finish. Not sure what I was thinking when I believed I'd make this a "working vacation". *sigh* again.

I had some fun and amusing moments, and I had more than a few minor dissappointments that have been over-amplified by my extreme tiredness. All-in-all, though, I'm sick of Vegas and I'm not in a hurry to come back. Or to gamble ever again. Or fly. Or sit by myself in a bar texting away on my Blackberry like the nerd that I am.