It's much easier to talk about inconsequential things like Roger and tennis so I'll just say that I don't remember why I said that I thought he played better against Novak as compared to Andy Murray. I mean yeah there was that amazing overhead lob, those backhand winners down the line and cross-court, but I had to make myself sit through the second set and resist the urge to fast-forward because he dropped it in an extremely frustrating manner. I'm sure he felt frustrated too. In the end I couldn't stand it anymore and fast-forwarded through the part where Novak broke Roger's serve to win the second set.
I would've watched the whole thing, but it took damn long and I wanted to swim. I also wanted to at least try to do some work, but as the story always goes, my laziness got the better of me.
I actually almost burst out laughing while driving home from the airport last night when the line "didn't know where I was going" from Stereophonics' "Stopped to Fill My Car Up" came on at precisely the point in which I was thinking to myself, "Shit, I don't know where I'm going." Thankfully I figured it out and made it home without any unnecessary detours.
Quite obviously I don't have the habit of going to the airport often, but during the odd occasion in which I do make a trip to the airport for reasons other than going away myself, I find myself envying all the people who are ready to board a plane - and it's not because I'm particularly fond of flying (I'm not). No doubt I missed home when I was in Europe in June, but after you've recharged and got the requisite dosage of homeliness, you just wanna leave again. Or at least, I do. Not to escape from anything here, but just to soak up the excitement and novelty of going to a new place and experiencing a different culture, lifestyle.
Amidst all of this, I was looking at my London pictures in State Building class and it made me want to force myself into Kenneth's suitcase and get a free (albeit highly uncomfortable and potentially fatal) flight to London. I miss waking up in a different city once every few days, waking up in anticipation of what the day has in store for me. Now that real life has set in again, every day is another mundane dragging of the feet around the clock without any point, any purpose. I am terribly unexcited, terribly bored. And I genuinely feel like my life is terribly pointless.
Lastly, I can't express my feelings, so I won't even bother.
Title of entry from Stereophonics' "Is Yesterday, Tomorrow, Today?"