Reflecting back

A shitty thing happened yesterday at work. I got home late, frustrated and teary, no dinner planned, and tennis at 6. Briefly I considered skipping tennis--after all, I could only scrape together a salad with a few slices of ham--how would that give me energy to play? But I went anyway. (I don't know why. My typical impulse is towards laziness.)

It was so much fun! Well, minus my serves hitting the net most of the time. There were seven of us. Two or three women have been playing for a while, so they were able to give the very beginners a few tips. I loved getting to play doubles. The feeling of a well-placed ball hitting the racquet is so satisfying!

There's another girl there who also doesn't serve well, which afforded us a lot of opportunities to joke around about needing to practice more. It made me feel a part of things. We're all joining the same team for league play. The summer season starts at the end of June, but the games don't count towards ranking. Official league starts in the fall.

In the hour and a half of play, I completely forgot about my bad day. I left glowing happily with exertion and contentment. I drove a back way home, and ended up on a street I recognized.

It was a street on which I got lost, the first week or two after we moved. I was looking for the closest branch library to our apartment. I passed it by miles, and ended up in a fancy subdivision. Driving past the same subdivision, I remembered that day, how frustrated, lonely, and lost I felt. Contrasted to this moment, when I felt tired and content, excited about the wonderfully welcoming, friendly group of women who wanted me to play tennis on their team, no matter how many times my serve went long, or in the net.