What’s sweeter than a Georgia peach? That’s the question I currently find myself asking as I sit 36,000 feet in the air en route back to Phoenix, AZ. The early answer is not much (check back at a later date after I go to NYC, Chicago etc). Currently, Georgia has shot to my list of preferred destinations along with me possibly purchasing a condominium downtown (if I can ever afford that baller-ific lifestyle). I’m going to take you step by step through my journey from when I first set foot into Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport to right this moment, as I sit in the aisle seat of flight 1889 on my way back to Sky Harbor. Let’s Begin!

Let’s face it, being alone sucks. Humans aren’t intended to be isolated which is why solitude is a form of such severe punishment in an already unfathomable place, like prison. Now, we’re all free (hopefully, I heard they’ve got androids in jail) but for those of us who are free and still in search of accomplishing a worthy goal; we must establish a team.