Softball Diaries (Day 10)

Dear Diary,

I have not forgotten you. I know it has already been 10 days since I last wrote to you, but that's just the way I am. Words don't just come to me; they take their time, strolling without haste along the winding meadowy paths of my mind before coming to their final resting place on your handsome pages. Well, I suppose there's also that other minor complication of my not having played or practiced for the past 10 days. But between you and me, the first reason sounds far more romantic and certainly less lazy; so could we just play nice and go with that one?

You'll be happy to learn that I went to the batting cages at the Mississauga Playdium last night. Kalam--have I told you about Kalam? he's a class act--got us two-for-one game credits so we all had a good number of tries. Ed--I know I haven't told you about Ed; he's a class act too--gave me some pointers, but I still have a ways to go before I can really crank that bat. I must say, though, I felt very satisfied when I made contact with the 80mph pitches.

We spent the rest of the evening at the arcade, driving virtual F1 cars and shooting pixelated terrorists with mock sniper rifles. I would tell you more, but I'm sure you'd just be bored with the non-softball related details. Sometimes, I think you have such a one-track mind. I mean really, what about my needs? What if I just want to tell you about my day and catch up? Do I have to make up something about softball to get your attention? Seriously. No, it's okay, I don't want to talk about it. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Jerk.


Your Favorite Jerk