I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I enjoyed the second season of Netflix’s Love (In fact, I binged the second season Saturday – which isn’t THAT big of a feat considering the 12-episode arc is only about 6 hours long, I think). The weird thing that came out of the viewing experience was how it clarified some of the things I want to pursue – which is kind of a fucked-up thought considering the personalities of the two characters (although, if you put a dorky white guy in the lead role of any rom-com/dramedy I will inevitably emotionally invest in the character and relate something in their archetype to my life … btw, how awesome is Gillian Jacobs?). What kind of came together was this: I’m happy I’m finally working, even if it is just subbing for the moment. And it’s time for me to start building a life here, on Cape Cod. For so long I’ve laid low, thinking that I was biding my time until I found the next thing that will take me off of this bog and into a new adventure. It’s become more and more apparent that any next adventure will be here – whether that be football, teaching, or some sort of relationship (which, even though I found myself wanting something over the weekend, is realistically far off in the distance – this homie’s gotta get some shit together).
I want things. I hadn’t, entirely, before. There were things I would like, but there wasn’t something I wanted – if that makes any sense. Wanting allows for a plan to be in place – which means I get to create a road map of what’s next.