I'm feeling a bit like Dustin Hoffman at the end of The Graduate. I've shrugged off my secure job (One word, Benjamin - plastics) and am moving to LA to pursue my dream career. But as I sit at the back of this bus with my hopes and dreams next to me, the logistics of the move and possibility of failure start to creep in along with The Sound of Silence. I've made the decision to start to move away from what I thought I could do - hold down an office job and spend nights and weekends on my creative pursuits - and get a job that allows me more freedom to do what I love. It's exciting and nerve-wracking. There's a certain romance that comes along with being a night security guard and working on my screenplay at my shift. But there's also looming car payments, car insurance, cell phones, rent, food... I'm going to have to do something that I didn't anticipate doing in my 30's.
Cut back on my lifestyle.
But there's opportunity here. I may have to bail out on some events that are expensive (I'll start a GoFundMe to crowdsource my more Bacchanalian outings) and cut back on the drinking (probably for the best), but I'll still have me. My personality. My sense of humor. The things that nothing can take from me. Insert comment here about how I'm truly rich.
So basically, come visit me in LA, but don't expect that we'll be going out to Urasawa. I'm happy to pantomime that experience for you in the comfort of my home, replete with fishsticks and finely-aged PBR (just kidding - beer snobbery is one thing that I just won't let go of).
Anyway. Thanks for reading about my hopes and fears, and if you see me out on the town, try to encourage me to not buy those extra 4 beers.