All day I've been thinking, and actively pursuing an apartment in LA. That seemed like the logical choice.
Then out of the blue, the f*cking blue, my writing partner/agent tells me he's been thinking a lot about R + J. WTF. Now I'm in cahoots again. Should I move to NYC, live in a cheap dump and write my ass off?
Or should I live it up just a little while longer in LA and hopefully find a nitch to crawl into?
For 80% of the day, its been LA.
By Friday, I've got to choose.
Tuesday = LA 80, NYC 20
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