Having been 12 months since the last time I watched tennis “in the flesh”, so to speak, I’d forgotten just how exhausting it is. Sure, I had my 2 weeks of all nighters watching Roland Garros, followed by uni exams, where I forgot exactly how a full night’s sleep worked. This was followed by Wimbledon, which was lovely since I had flown to South Africa and for some reason the jet lag made me precisely on schedule. Suddenly I was in the same time zone as a tennis tournament which was completely disorienting, and meant that instead of sitting up all night to watch and having a life during the day, I had to be out and about while constantly checking scores on my lovely Wimbledon iTouch app. (Yes, I have no iPhone, just an iTouch. Whatcha gonna do about it?) The beauty was we could spend the whole Sunday arvo watching the final and making a day of it. Being an Aussie, I’m all over the twilight finals meself so it was great looking at the sun shining, then going down, and thinking – hey – the sun is shining here too! Oh, the novelty. Us Aussies really are incredibly isolated people. Anyway, my point was that Roland Garros and its awkward timezone had nothing on this. Even the US Open, where the day job got pushed aside for the joys of slamtracker and US Open radio (no TV in the workplace, clearly) was at an exact opposite so I could handle it ok. The Aussie Open, due to its fantastic scheduling (I don’t want to turn Tomic on you and say anything else) has left me with less sleep in a week than the mother of a newborn. It’s also given me less time to write on this blog, read match reports and articles, and do all those things I like to do during regular tournaments. I feel like I’ve been given a choice – live the tennis, feel the sunburn, smell the crowd. Or watch the tennis, like, properly.