I’m playing basketball tonight.
But I’m not wearing shorts.
I’m very anxious, although anxiety is not really a new thing for me. But this is different. The closest I’ve been to playing basketball in about 10 years is shooting hoops with the five-year-olds I work with in Compton. And those kids might be better than me. They've really got some, er, ... "hops."
And now, here I am, voluntarily participating in an activity at which I am no good. I am going to pull on some tennis shoes (nope, not basketball shoes. Do people really just own those?), tie my hair back in a ponytail and hope to God that I don’t injure myself or someone else. But really, who knows if I’m all that bad? And why am I judging myself so harshly before I’ve even changed out of my work clothes?
After making a multitude of excuses, tonight I’m playing basketball.
My List of Excuses
I was out of shape. Well, now I work out regularly so I shouldn’t be huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.
I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing shorts in front of everyone. Shorts reveal my psoriasis, and then I get to deal with the ensuing pity party. “Oooh, you poor thing! Doesn’t that hurt?” Yes, thank you, it does. And you asking me that doesn’t make it feel better, asshole. And then I realized, yeah, sure, my legs look like I was attacked by a porcupine, but you know what? They work. They bend and brace and jump just fine.
I don't know the right terms for basketball. Or really much else about actually playing the sport. But since when do I have to be an expert to participate in what's supposed to be a fun activity?
Anyway, who cares if I wear yoga pants to play basketball? They are way more flattering anyway.
Someday, I’ll wear basketball shorts to play basketball. I know, novel concept.
But tonight, I’m playing basketball, and I’m not wearing shorts.