Moving to Atlanta

When I graduated college and started looking for jobs, I looked at cities in the South. I wanted a big city lifestyle without the fast pace of the North. I’m the first to admit I love New York City, but after a weekend there, I get too overwhelmed by the craziness. Besides, I was sick of being cold in the North!

I was intentional- I looked at places where I could see myself settling down; my goal was to find the perfect place to live and to make a big move once. A city like Atlanta was a perfect match- a home with big city amenities without feeling too overwhelming.

A city like Atlanta was a perfect match- a home with big city amenities without feeling too overwhelming.

Ironically, before moving here I had only been to Atlanta once- and it was only for a fifteen minute stop in Ponce City Market after a wedding. It was the fall of my senior year of college, right in the midst of my frenzy of a job search. We stopped at the French cafe, Saint Germain, downstairs (if you know me, you know I love a good French cafe!). I got a croissant a business card- I have a habit of collecting cards when I travel. I have business cards and mementos  from all over- most of them end up with my scrapbooking extras and for reference when someone asks “what was that place we stopped at when we were in X?”. This card, however, ended up in my wallet, where I placed it for good luck that maybe one day I would live in the South and go to places like Ponce for croissants all the time.

I forgot all about it the card and Atlanta as I went back to school, until I received a job offer with the choice between Atlanta and Delaware. I’m not usually a big risk taker (this blog is probably the biggest risk of my life), but choosing to start over in a new city without ever really seeing it just felt right. It was scary, but I was ready for a change and was adamant about living in a city in the South.

So, without seeing the city, any apartments, and without knowing anyone, I took a one way flight the day after graduation. 

Well, what do you know- a few days after I moved in, I was looking for some cash in my wallet. And the French bakery card was still there. 

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