Vegas Countdown

4 Days...

I hope on a 10 am flight and deal with engines roaring, babies crying, RLS, and chewed up iPod headphones. I love roadtrips. I love to drive backroads. Anything but a straight line. I like airports. I had a blast with the Tennessee trip and wish I could travel more. So I am getting a vacation. I get to get away from porn and chats and carpal tunnel pain from molesting a mouse for 15 hours a day.

But there is a downside. I don't deserve a vacation. Nope. I don't deserve one at all.

I have too much guilt. Too much panic going on. My life and credit (in that order) are on the line. I should be job/lawyer/arsonist hunting. I am so stressed if I rip out my last hair I am going to look like Michael Chiklis.

Vacations are supposed to be relaxing. I need to learn how to. I plan on having fun. I plan on gambling. I plan on leaving some sins and replace them with a few others. Not that I don't already commit these at home. I just have less reminders of home to remind me.

I wish I had someone to take with me. Someone that would get hammered with me, gamble with me, get obnoxiously drunk with me in a place where it doesn't matter. But I am single. I guess it can't be a bad thing if I plan on 12 hour benders of chips and liquor at the tables. Sin City isn't exactly Venice.

Well, I have to go shopping for some jeans. I still don't know how pimped out I want to get for sitting at a poker table. I am glad I can finally use the Abercrombie Gift Card my ex never took for her birthday.