Going Under

No, I'm not suicidal or depressed, haha. The song "Going Under" by Evanescence was playing. The song was really big in late 2003/early 2004 when I was a senior in high school (side note: dear God that seems like forever ago). I bought the CD, I don't know, I guess in January of 2004 after it was apparent that they were going to be more than just a One Hit Wonder after "Bring Me to Life" was played about sixty-three million times. I used to listen to it (the CD) all the time when I would drive to tennis drills three nights a week from Lawrenceville to Snellville. The drive would sometimes take forever because back in the day (haha) GA20 was only two lanes and the ONLY cross-county road leading into that area. Anyway, I'm rambling now. I would usually get through at least half of the CD, and often more if I caught the lights wrong.

So, hearing that song brings back those memories of inching my way across Gwinnett County to get to drills. I was so excited and usually got there early to practice serves and hit with whomever might already be there as well. I had just come off a four or five month hiatus from hitting because I had hurt my elbow and every day that I got hit was like Christmas. I would also often hit on the ball machine for an hour or so before going to practice just for fun and to be warmed up. I was a joint enrollment student so I was usually gone from school when we would break for lunch. Sometimes I'd stay for lunch, usually I went home because I was ready to be OUT OF THERE. Anyway, the days I didn't have class I would go hit and then go hit some more, and when we would have Tennis Team practice I would hit before that as well, and then have practice, and was usually able to make it to drills. So I'd hit for like four or five hours some day. My lungs could only dream of such now... It's quite funny to look back at that and remember that my entire world would often focus around hitting that stupid fuzzy yellow ball (I started to type bottle here, what does that mean?!?!?), and pretty much nothing else. How quickly that changed! Now if I get to hit that fuzzy yellow bellow once or twice a month I'm doing good!

Funny the things you remember.