Spontaneity comes with the territory in this little job I have. You have to think on your feet. You learn to think quickly, pack quickly, dress quickly… of which the results are hundreds of happy on time customers, and a good company repertoire. It is our job to… Be on time. Be prepared. Be ready for anything, and I am usually pretty good at it. Until today. I got the call at 5:08am that I had a trip to Las Vegas. It was a quick call since I had bid aggressive the night before and I had to report (which means you and your little hiney are at the airport ready for duty) at 6:45. I shot out of bed and my hair was like the most ridiculous mass of crazy I have ever seen. I also had those wide eyes that I seem to automatically take on when I get out of bed earlier than nine. Don’t believe those people who tell you that the early bird gets the worm. There is no worm. The worms are in bed where you should be. Anyways, I was a h.a.w.t mess, and I knew I needed to be out the door by 6:15 in order to squeak my way to the airport by 6:45. In girl time one hour is like 10.485757 seconds, and that’s all I had. I had one hand brushing my teeth, the other brushing my mass of unruly hair, meanwhile trying to pack my suitcase with my mind. Vegas though…. I was very excited because I have been wanting to get the long Vegas overnight for awhile. I have gotten it several times, but there is always something new to do in Vegas. I definitely had big plans for tonight. I finished getting ready, packed my two day suitcase, my lunch box, AND I even brewed coffee and toasted an english muffin. I set the Guinness book of work records for myself, and got out the door by 6:13. I literally thought to myself, “I am on top of things today!!” Yes… that should have been my first clue. The flight was long but good, and it was over quickly, and I didn’t realize my mistake until walking through the jet bridge to get to the terminal. Through the window it still looked like Vegas, dry and desert brown with the promise of riches and luxury on the horizon, but it felt like Charlotte. COLD COLD COLD. Why don’t you take a wild guess at what kind of clothes I threw in that little suitcase: bikini, jeans (the only thing I did right), an airy free people shirt, and gold sandals… This was a rookie mistake for a flight attendant. You always.. I mean ALWAYS should have both seasons in your bag. Everyone knows this, including me, but I was on top of the world this morning. I even had coffee for heavens sake. Can you imagine nineteen hours in Vegas, and I have been in this room the whole dang time. No pool. No strip. No clothes. I decided I would make the best of it a couple hours ago, put on my gym clothes and got myself ready to go to the gym, simply to get out of this room, and guess what I realized: by golly I didn’t even bring a single sock. I tried to MacGuyver my way into figuring out if I could somehow twist my panties into makeshift socks, but turns out that is and never will be a good idea. And can you imagine me striding down into this swanky hotel’s gym with panties poking out of my Brooks running shoes? Actually please try NOT to imagine that. The moral of this story is Vegas is not always warm, socks don’t pack themselves, and things don’t always go quite as planned – even when you’ve had your coffee. Oh, and I am spending 19 hours in this bed. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! All I can say about that is Thank Goodness. Because I can’t look at this room anymore.