You're far from home, eating food you probably shouldn't at times that make no sense to your body.
Same goes for sleep. Your body needs sleep, but everything around it, every damn subtle cue from the environment, is telling it that it just isn't time yet.
Traveling to Las Vegas is essentially a double-down on all of this.
And sometimes it's a Split-your-8s and then Double-Down on the 8 that got a 3, especially since the dealer is showing a 6 and cool you got a 7 for 18, and stay put on the other 8 that was joined by a Queen, now you're sitting pretty because the dealer turned up a 9 for 15 and then drew a fudgin' 6 ARE YOU KIDDING ME!
Notice all of these players smiling? They haven't split their 8s against a 6 yet.
And then, add in the red-eye.
It seemed like such a great idea when you were booking the flight. It's a direct flight, which to/from Indy is almost unheard of. Booth duty and teardown ended about the time things wind down back home, which meant a mostly free afternoon and evening to case the strip, lose some money on a split/double-down, and perhaps step into a fountain (Venetian). With a late check-out, there was time for a quick nap and a nice dinner.
"Seems like" and "Reality", turns out, not always the same thing.
We hit the wall, hard, at the airport.
The plane was packed and muggy. So muggy that I had the little air jet blowing on my face or the back of my neck the entire 3 hours, 2 minutes. And someone please explain to me why the pilot kept the seatbelt light on the entire, turbulence free, flight.
Bags were slow to come out. (Wasn't my idea to check bags, so don't start.) Dark and 6 degrees F at the car.
Try this for fun, kids: wake up 90 minutes after a half-day of work, a full day of play in Vegas, and a red-eye flight in a sauna for a 9am conference call.
The fun continued clear through the next two conference calls which were thoughtfully spaced just close enough together to make a nap unrealistic, but far enough apart that I couldn't stay awake between them, allowing me the pleasure of waking twice to an alarm after a blissful 15 minutes of sleep.
Needless to say, the mind and body were on tilt. In fact, they weren't speaking to each other.
Luckily, I have a reset button. Returning to feeling normal was just outside my front door.
After the last call, I bypassed the bed, geared up, saddled up the dog, and hit the street/snow. It wasn't 30 seconds before I felt back in my skin again, mind and body were back on good terms, both present and accounted for.
Something that makes you feel normal again, no matter what you've put yourself through, is something you should keep doing. If you haven't found that something for you, give running a try.
Numbers: 1.1 miles with one sorely-missed dog.