Arriving

What’s the first thing I did after booking my plane ticket?

I told the “world” I did it. Via Facebook. Via Twitter. Via text message. Via phone calls.

This was one of those moments I wanted to share with everyone I knew.

I figured it out! I’m going to try and make this work.

I had two weeks to tie up loose ends in Maryland. To create my plan of action for Las Vegas. To figure out when I would move my stuff out of Atlanta. To determine if I was going to fly or drive to Vegas. To nail down how I was going to get the cat’s from Megan’s to Las Vegas. And, yeah, the job thing.

While I was home, I sent out some resumes. Set up some interviews in Vegas. Did what I could to make sure that when I got there, I wouldn’t have to turn around and come home after I had worn out my welcome at Kyla’s.

After some discussion with my dad, we decided driving wasn’t going to be practical, so I went online and had car shipping companies bid on shipping my car to Vegas.

I awoke early on Oct. 30, to the car shippers letting me know they were down the street, ready to pick up my car.

Dad and I drove out to the parking lot, said goodybe to my car, and headed to breakfast.

“You ready for this?” Dad asked over bagels.

“Yup,” I said, feeling energy and excitement oozing from my pores.

Hours later, Mom, Dad and I were hauling my bags to BWI, dropping them at the Southwest check-in, and saying “goodbye.”

The entire flight, my heart thumped loudly in my chest.

Once the wheels were down in Las Vegas, a smile spread across my face.

I walked down the jetway, took in the ringing bells of the slot machines, looked out at the sun setting into the desert sky and knew at that moment I made the right decision.

I had to get to Atlanta. I had to travel the world. I had to end up back where I started.

Viva Las Vegas.