The view from my room

I was relieved this morning when I woke up and found my underwear on the balcony.

I had hung them up to dry last night and was afraid they’d fall over the railing (note: I realize this is the most granny statement anyone has ever made about their night in Vegas).

What a journey…my flight in the morning from Frankfurt was canceled due to ‘mechanical failure.’ When I was arriving at the gate, they made the announcement that there were problems and they were bringing drinks and snacks for the passengers (that’s never a good sign).

I set up shop with my laptop and sustinence I had brought for the journey and worked on my presentation for an hour (of course I was standing with my laptop…at the counter…so I got to hear everyone’s “needs”–from where they had to get to, to where they had come from…and I realized…no one cares).

I happened to be at the right place at the right time, because when they finally announced the cancelation, I had been chatting with the gate agent about my options.

After listing every city where I could fly through (it seems I have friends all over the country), she got me on one of the last seats on a flight later that day to Philly…and then on to Vegas.

The only problem: my bag would stay with the original flight, rescheduled for the following day.

When I finally got to Vegas, after exhausting all the snacks I brought, I was told my bag might not even make it for 2 days.

I got a small travel kit and was told to go shopping.

I had been up for 28 hours. All I wanted to do was snooze in the 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets in my bed at the Cosmopolitan.

Luckily, Vegas never sleeps.

I trudged through the partiers, the girls in short black dresses and stilettos, the smell of stale cigarettes and booze, in my yoga pants and flip flops and bloodshot eyes. I felt so out of place.

I managed to stock up on a few essentials (including some protein bars at GNC and a dress for my presentation today).

I slept for 4 hours.

And all I can hope is my bag makes it…