Cat-astrophes

I cannot believe it.

I almost ashamed to write it.

In fact, you can consider this a confession.

I am sitting infront of the tv with netbook in hand. (No, that's not the confession) What horrible little secret am I indulging in?

The tennis.

Please don't tell anyone. Tennis has been one of those sports I've relished mocking others for watching. I've always put it in the same category as golf and cricket. The sports that have always appeared beyond boring for anyone not actually on the court, or field, or course...

Please...a little yellow ball popping from one side of a net to the other? For five hours???

And yet, here I am. Watching Tomic play Lopez...so far it's 7-6 7-6 and I'm almost ashamed to say I'm excited.

Actually maybe the excitement is more due to the Magnum Temptation that's coming my way...
however that still doesn't explain the last few weeks. In my defense I must admit that with Darling Hubby monopolising the remote, there isn't too many other options. I must also state that I have been taken some rather enjoyable naps during crazy long matches - waking up only for the score and to shift my belly into a more comfortable position. I must say the 'thock, thock, thock' can be quite calming...

Still, my point is to never to say never.

Who would've thought I'd be watching tennis in my holidays? Certainly not I.


xxx