Thursday 22nd June: day 1
So , this is a blog? OK,lets get on with it . Since this is my first entry I guess an introduction is in order . My name is Andrew Vladimir Finkelstein. I am 37 years old and work at a bank . I am married with zero children . My wife's name is Leona and she is very patient . I am morbidly obsessed with tennis,so you will have to indulge me on that one . Anyway,its nice to meet you!
We are bombarded daily with images of sports stars and celebrities from the world of entertainment . We hail these figures as heros and watch them accumulate untold wealth . But do you know who the real heros are? Its you and me . Why am I going on about this...? Because I get up at 5.45am every morning and go to an office where I spend roughly 11 hours staring at a computer screen like a zombie. How long do you think Wayne Rooney or Brad Pitt would last doing that?
Anyway , I digress because all I wanted to point out was that Monday to Friday my life is dominated by the office. I live in London, and admit that I am fortunate to be able to drive to work . I have a four year-old BMW . I love Beemers , but must say that driving in London can be quite stressful . Its quite tough to drive when one hand is on the wheel and the other is in a contorted fist pounding the dashboard in rage .
So I get to work and do my job . It involves the stock market . Stuff goes up , stuff goes down and stuff doesn't move. Pretty good, huh? Anyway, sometimes these things dictate just how hard I'm gonna be punishing that dashboard on the way home .
Home is always a release . I hand my brolly and bowler hat to my wife ,who gives me a peck on the cheek,and......oops, parallel universe . Normally I place my exhausted carcus on the sofa and behave like Homer Simpson for a few hours .
Sometimes, however , I play tennis ,and that is a whole new world of pain, suffering and self-loathing . I do not have the time or space to tell you how bad I am . But sometimes I enjoy it. I've been playing for about 25 years and without tennis I would not have met Mrs.F , so I have a lot to be grateful to the sport for .
Thursday is mens team practice night . So I trooped along . My footwork is so bad that the short walk from the car to the clubhouse can be quite perilous but tonight was OK. Had a pleasant doubles,playing with three guys who are all better than me , and guess what? My partner and I lost the set we played!
The club I play at is called The Wimbledon Club , and is right next to THE Wimbledon . Its like any club really: a random assortment of unsuited personalities precariously held together by mutual interest in a pastime .
Anyway , it was steak and chips as my reward for coming second . When I got in I watched a recording of the Murray vs Seppi match from Nottingham . I think Muzzer wll be disappointed with that one, he really should have beaten the guy on grass .
Anyway ,thats a flavour of me and my life . Its not very representative , since my existence actually revolves around my wife , but I'm not going to get too soppy here .
At this stage I have no idea how often I will be updating, lets just see how it goes .
We are bombarded daily with images of sports stars and celebrities from the world of entertainment . We hail these figures as heros and watch them accumulate untold wealth . But do you know who the real heros are? Its you and me . Why am I going on about this...? Because I get up at 5.45am every morning and go to an office where I spend roughly 11 hours staring at a computer screen like a zombie. How long do you think Wayne Rooney or Brad Pitt would last doing that?
Anyway , I digress because all I wanted to point out was that Monday to Friday my life is dominated by the office. I live in London, and admit that I am fortunate to be able to drive to work . I have a four year-old BMW . I love Beemers , but must say that driving in London can be quite stressful . Its quite tough to drive when one hand is on the wheel and the other is in a contorted fist pounding the dashboard in rage .
So I get to work and do my job . It involves the stock market . Stuff goes up , stuff goes down and stuff doesn't move. Pretty good, huh? Anyway, sometimes these things dictate just how hard I'm gonna be punishing that dashboard on the way home .
Home is always a release . I hand my brolly and bowler hat to my wife ,who gives me a peck on the cheek,and......oops, parallel universe . Normally I place my exhausted carcus on the sofa and behave like Homer Simpson for a few hours .
Sometimes, however , I play tennis ,and that is a whole new world of pain, suffering and self-loathing . I do not have the time or space to tell you how bad I am . But sometimes I enjoy it. I've been playing for about 25 years and without tennis I would not have met Mrs.F , so I have a lot to be grateful to the sport for .
Thursday is mens team practice night . So I trooped along . My footwork is so bad that the short walk from the car to the clubhouse can be quite perilous but tonight was OK. Had a pleasant doubles,playing with three guys who are all better than me , and guess what? My partner and I lost the set we played!
The club I play at is called The Wimbledon Club , and is right next to THE Wimbledon . Its like any club really: a random assortment of unsuited personalities precariously held together by mutual interest in a pastime .
Anyway , it was steak and chips as my reward for coming second . When I got in I watched a recording of the Murray vs Seppi match from Nottingham . I think Muzzer wll be disappointed with that one, he really should have beaten the guy on grass .
Anyway ,thats a flavour of me and my life . Its not very representative , since my existence actually revolves around my wife , but I'm not going to get too soppy here .
At this stage I have no idea how often I will be updating, lets just see how it goes .
posted by Finky at 3:33 AM
1 Comments:
Good job Finks... hang in there with the blog.. see how long you last, hope you do better than me...
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