[Insert Awful Tennis Pun of Choice Here]

Inexplicably, I have tennis elbow.

Whatever, right? Right, except that the last time I swung a tennis racket I was wearing Roll-on Kissing Potion, my clarinet case was leaning against the chain-link fence and I was sporting a pink Izod shirt with the collar popped so high that it folded my earlobes. Now, that's some late-friggin'-onset tennis elbow.

I'm beginning to consider, however, the credibility of a second option...an option that, in light of certain evidence, seems most plausible:

I think I'm playing tennis in my sleep.

That's right - I think I'm sleep-tennising. C'mon, you've read weirder things in the Internet. Everyone readily accepts the phenomenon of sleep-walking...can sleep-sports be far behind?

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense, really. All the signs are there:

• The sudden appearance of a flock of those snow-white, frilly tennis-diaper-cover thingies in the laundry hamper
  
• My recent obsession with Bjorn Borg - or is it Martina Navratilova? (Dammit.)
  
• The fact that I have adopted Monica Seles' signature grunt for any activity requiring even the slightest exertion (Passing the green beans at dinner - "UNH!" Applying mascara - "UNH!" Answering the phone - "UNH!")
• My new habit when helping out in my kids' classrooms of yelling "FAULT!" whenever one of the children answers a question incorrectly
• The judgmental way Jon Bon Jovi (not my husband's real name) was looking at me this morning when I woke up and discovered I was wearing a read-white-and-blue-striped terry cloth headband...and sneakers.

Of course, I have questions about my new sleep-tennis lifestyle. Many questions.

For instance, which club have I joined? Does it have valet parking? Do they make a decent Monte Cristo sandwich? Are the dues such that I can effectively hide them from Jon Bon Jovi? Do they host a holiday dinner dance and, if so, am I on the decorations committee?

And what about my tennis-playing? Am I ranked? Should I be boning up for the state championships? Or wait - what if I got tennis elbow not from playing tennis but from repeatedly hoisting courtside gin and tonics and signaling for reloads of cocktail weenies? What if I'm one of those Mrs. Robinson types who goes to the club just to lounge around in a gold lame caftan and ogle the taut, young cabana boys?

[ahem]

Hey, back off, man - everyone needs a hobby.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my afternoon nap...
Le Thanks

I'm tickled pink to receive the Encouraged Award from The Wife of Riley! (((Hug.)))

Blicky Kitty has gone and created her own personal award, of which I am a very proud recipient. It's Blicky Kitty's Blogs Worth Stalking Award and you can see it here (as well as in my sidebar). Meow-meow and thanks-thanks!

Big thanks to Ashley and JenniferSusan for the Proximidade Award!

And I've been tagged by Elizabeth, Nicole, Hula, Brooke, and Mandy for some very cool memes that I have not yet had the chance to tackle. Thanks for taggin' me up!