The day job has me on the move again. This time I'm making the weekly trek to ATL, or as tourists that don't know why the earth turns seem to think it is called- Hotlanta.
I'm not going to pretend like I've figured it all out after a couple weeks but what I do know about the city:
- The radio is firing at all the times (Outkast on repeat)
- A Wafflehouse is harder to miss than the bedazzled rims on my coworker's car
- The average daily look makes my standard Saturday night-Bad Bitch outfit suddenly seem appropriate for Sunday service.
I found exhibit A at the mall...on a Tuesday:
Admittedly, I'm no closer to looking this bad (aka damn fine) than I am to having 22's put on the minivan I got at Hertz this week. But hey, a girl can dream.