anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,

There is just something about waking up late-ish on a Sunday and spending my whole morning/early afternoon at home that makes me rather moody. I'd hoped to do some work before 4pm tennis with Roy, but my hope remained exactly that: a hope. How tragic.

Tennis was exhausting. It was a bright, sunny and cloudless day, perfect beach weather, but it made for an excruciatingly hot tennis session. I practised my serve for the first time in months at the end; it didn't go as badly as I had feared. I still don't think that my stroke is correct but I guess it's not a bad thing to get the ball in more often than not. But then again, because I am a perfectionist, I am more concerned about hitting the ball correctly than the actual outcome of the shot (i.e. where the ball lands). I would hire a coach but I have no time and no money.

I read an article that I have to review for the journal. I was going to submit my comments but my brain isn't working tonight. Tennis left me quite tired. I am actually really tired now. There isn't a point to this entry; I just felt like writing it for its own sake.

Lastly, Dominic kept his promise. This reminds me of how I used to take notice of whether a guy would live up to his word - whether he'd do the things that he said he'd do, even completely trivial ones. If he failed to do something that he said he would do, it counted against him.

I cannot believe how many times I made excuses for G. Even when we were "together", he would say things like 'let's watch a movie' or 'let's play this escape thing' or 'we should play tennis together', but nothing happened until I made something happen. Even on our first real date, he said he would send me some names of some philosophy books - never happened. I took note of this but I was already so smitten that it failed to have any effect. How bloody stupid. And of course, he never sent me pictures of Berkeley, he never got back to me 'tomorrow' whenever he said 'let's talk more tomorrow', he basically never did the things that he said he would do.

And I was hung up on that? What the flying fuck was wrong with me?

When I first went out with Dominic, he said he would send me some music, and he did. He said he would send a more detailed reply the next day, and he did; and when he couldn't, he explained why he couldn't instead of disappearing for hours and hours and hours with no regard at all to how I may feel about it. I am looking forward to returning to Cambridge, and he is a huge part of it. I miss talking to him and I miss his accent, as weird as that sounds.

Anyway. I am exhausted. Mag and I are going to Sentosa tomorrow! Beach time! Best friend time! So excited!
Tags: dominic, g, mag, playing tennis

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