Sixteen days. Wow. That number might have more significance if I told you that I've planned to move to LA since the 4th Grade (which was also around the start of my Saved By the Bell obsession. That's probably unrelated, though.) Anywho, my plan to go to college in LA took a last minute detour when I got a phone call from a somewhat exclusive conservatory in NYC, so I moved North and lived there for 3.5 years. I loved it, but I continued to venture further and further off my path until I was no longer sure which way to go. As is often the case when one gets lost, I headed home.
The "home" portion of my journey was supposed to last 10 months. Then, I would head back to NYC. Tomorrow will be the eight year anniversary of my arrival home. The ten month thing didn't happen. In 2009, there was a new plan to move back and room with Paul. This was during the height of the recession, and it turns out that Alabama is more cost-of-living friendly than NYC during a recession.
But, I guess there was a silver lining to that recession. NYC, like Alabama, is comfortable. It's homey to me now. And moving back would be just that-- a more expensive, lots of stuff to do, closer to my NY friends version of Tuscumbia. And soon, that old voice was back in my head, urging me West. So, I made a new plan two years ago, and I set a date: August 2013. But, who wants to drive across the country in the heat of August when gas prices are high for vacationers? So, October it would be, although that's right before my birthday. And then there's Thanksgiving and Christmas, and who needs to spend all that time flying home when I've only just arrived in LA? So, January 2014 was a go. The 2nd. No, the 11th. But, really, how could I expect to make such a big move when I'm still coming out of Holiday mode??? February 22nd sounds good. But, then, why not just wait until the fist of the month? And really, if I wait to leave until the 8th, I can skip paying that California sales tax on my car. And you know, April would also work...
Except that the March 8th thing appears to be sticking. And that scares the heck out of me because I have less of a plan than ever of exactly what I want to do with my life. Screenwriting. Production. Script Supervising. Directing. Casting. Management. PR. Something in entertainment. Will that make me happy? What if I'm already as happy as I'm going to be? What if I miss something big with my family or my local friends? What if I want to come back? What if I don't want to come back?
It doesn't matter. It's no longer a plan or even a choice. It's a compulsion, which is why I have decided to stop saying that I'm "moving to LA" or "taking an open ended trip too LA" (as has been my description over the last couple of weeks). Now, the word I'm using is Sabbatical. Of course, technically, that means a break from work, but I think it still applies here. The purpose is essentially to stop what you're doing and spend a year doing what you really want to do. To accomplish something. I'm not sure exactly what that accomplishment will be or how the next year will go, but I guess we'll find out.
In sixteen days.
