So, yes, we were in First Class and we officially arrived home only twelve hours later than we were originally scheduled to, but it was a long and somewhat ridiculous trip.
In fact, the man I was sitting next to on the flight from Las Vegas to Houston kept saying that he was sorry we had such a ridiculous itinerary. As incredulous as we had been in the airport, he kept asking me to repeat it.
Oaxaca to Mexico City to Las Vegas to Houston to Sacramento.
A four-hour nap between two rows of blue chairs in the Houston airport (from almost five to nine in the morning) didn’t help as much as one might think.
Oaxaca and Mexico City are in the same time zone as Houston; Las Vegas is in the same zone as Sacramento (two hours later), so in addition to scrambling from plane to plane and gate to gate, we also needed to keep track of what time it really was.
shewhodaresnothing 