Watching the Open

I feel nostalgic. It was only a few years ago that I was at the French Open. I still remember the feel of the court under my feet and the eyes of the world upon me! I remember the feel of the ball as it hit my racket. I remember the cheers. I remember all of that and I miss it. I had so much fun.

I never went to Australia. I am no longer a professional, but I still watch each match and wonder how I would measure up against them all. But I think my agent will be forbidding me from watching the rest. He says I will get wrinkles and ruin my looks sighing like that. He says I must be at my most beautiful because the Valentine's Shoots are us. He says if I do this, then he will talk to a director for me about a part in a drama.

He says this every time. I think I need to talk to Herr Atobe. I need a change, or at least an agent that will let me watch tennis.