"He's Starting To Heat Up Here..."

I'm having a bad weekend. I feel fatter than normal, even more unattractive than I already believe I am, and to make matters worse, I scrubbed the skin of my neck sore in the shower yesterday. OCD is NOT my friend. It carried over to my morning stay at the basketball court today. I missed everything at first. Lay-ups, short jumpers, three-pointers and free throws go without saying, I've never been good at those. I got so pissed that I eventually kicked my basketball over the hill behind the courts and took my sweet time to go get it.

As I got it and came back around the side of the hill, I was SO angry, I decided I was going to keep shooting until the net started ripping consistently, which is just what happened. I relaxed, let fly, followed through and let the beautiful sound of swish after swish waft through my ears. My nine foot bank shot from each side of the basket was even hitting after a few minutes. I was finally satisfied with making about 12 of my last 20 shots (60 percent is a GREAT one shooting), so I did my final routine of bouncing the ball of the basket in front of me, driving the length of the floor to the other basket and finishing with a lay-up, and jogging to my car straight ahead.

Moral of the story: Determination. If you REALLY want something to go your way, you'll make it work somehow, someway. I want to apply that determination to things beyond an hour and 15 minutes spent shooting baskets, but I'm still struggling with how to go about it. All I know is I CAN'T quit. If women aren't going to like me, then I need to be ready to spend my life alone and like myself doing it. In the meantime, I'll keep shooting for something. Maybe for my own happiness.