Thursday, September 12, 2013

Well, that didn't turn out like I'd hoped...

Yesterday was my first day of work here in Atlanta, and everything went pretty well. It went well, that is, until I was time to leave. I looked everywhere, but my car and apartment keys were nowhere to be found. That's right. I haven't even been in Atlanta for a whole week, and I've already achieved a feat I never accomplished in all my time in New York. 

I retraced my steps once, twice, and three times (a lady), and every person I asked asked me if I had retraced my steps. And now I'm sitting in my friend Teresa's apartment making this post on my iPhone. 

On the bright side: I had my first chick fil a since I moved here. Yes, of course I had a chocolate milkshake. With whipped cream and cherry on top. And while we were in the car in the drive through, I told Teresa how I had, just the day before, cooked a frozen pizza and in the absence if proper cutlery, torn it in half and eaten it out of a plastic bowl. Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play...and where the spinsters lose their keys and sleep on someone else's couch.