Slump Bustin'

So I set out to get back in the saddle.
I've only slept with one person since my release and as I've ended that relationship I know what has to be done.
Once this becomes a congruent inner decision the universe listens. Work has to be done that follows but things will fall into place.

I'm at work and this girl who's never really hit me up before starts doing the girl version of gaming me hard. She's touching me, showing all kinds of interest, trying to hold my hand and shit.
I don't really put much thought into how annoying that is, but an hour after I get off work I'm over by the hood getting out of a cab and I'm knocking on her front door.
We go up to her room. We have sex and I try to sleep on what passes for her bed/mattress. She has that non descript Asian girl body that might as well be a pre-op effeminate twink in all honesty but it's dark so who the fuck cares. She's a girl. I'm a guy. I'm in a slump. I need to hate-fuck a girl to get my head back in the game. We wake up and I fuck her again but it's round two of some of the least interesting sex I've ever had.
I'm not surprised.
She works as a dominatrix and it reaffirms my life experiences that girls with highly sexualized jobs are dead fish in the sack/when not being paid.

Every sign was there beforehand that it would be lackluster.
I wasn't that into her.
She's not really my type.
I was tired AF.
The path of least resistance was to go home, sleep, and chill the fuck out until a tastier meal came my way.
The path of least resistance is no path to what you want.

So why did I do it?
Because medicine doesn't always taste good.
It was more important that I bust through the wall/this slump than be a lazy clown and turn down an easy-ish ticket to get back in the saddle.
You gotta do things you don't wanna do to get the things you want.

"Sometimes the lion must eat grass."