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In spirit if not body

My body doesn’t like me too much at the moment. After a weekend on the toot in Magaluf pretending to be 25-years younger than I really am, I then flew myself 9 hours back in time to Sin City, Las Vegas which included a sprint through Heathrow’s new Terminal 5 to make my final connection.

When my alarm went off on Monday night when I was in a cab taking me from the airport in Las Vegas to the hotel, it signalled that I had been up for 24 hours.

Now I don’t quite know if I’m coming or going and at 4am this morning when our daughter, suffering her own jet-lag, woke wanting to play I felt like my body was ready to move out on me even though I had seduced it with expensive red wine last night at dinner in Sage, the latest incarnation of Chicago chef Shawn McClain.

To be honest the conference I’m on hasn’t really started yet, although I do have to register and collect my oversized badge with gaudy chain in a minute. Tonight we are hosting a client dinner and this is followed by a show. I’m looking forward to the Cirque du Soleil for no other reason that I might be able to get back in my bodies good books and get some shuteye.

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