I have to say, most people took the short notice well.
My boss put his head in his hands and muttered, "No mopeds. Promise me." (Yeah, rub it in, you bastard.)
My mom deflected my apologies with a wave. "Nonsense! Life is for living; go and have fun!" (How amazing is my mom? You have no idea. Then again, maybe you do. People like me don't just go dropping out of average hosts, after all.)
The best thing about this freakishly last-minute plan is that it gives me zero time to waste money shopping for new bikinis that will only make me hate how I look in a bikini.
The worst thing about it is that it gave me three days to lose 10 pounds (although my Editor tells me that if I totally starve myself for 72 hours and then cut off both feet, I'll be at my goal weight). Then, last night, a friend had a huge get-together at which I ate myself into a coma, and if the 12 pounds of turkey and stuffing and pie I just shovelled back doesn't put me over my allowable carry-on weight, it'll be a miracle.
Boarding agent: "Anything to declare ma'am?"
Me: Just gluttony.
Editor: Don't forget cruelty. And sloth.
Me: *pointing at Editor* This one goes in the cargo area. With the pets.