Stage 1: Joy
HOLY SHIT, IT'S DRAW DAY! Time to settle in with a cup of coffee (possibly spiked, if you're me), flip on the computer, and soak in the awesomeness of yet another Slam.
Stage 2: Heartbreak
It's all fun and games until Dinara draws Kim in the first round, or Masha lands in Venus' quarter, or A-Rod draws Fed's quarter, or Moose gets plopped in Rafa's half. No matter what, draw day is fun until you realize that shit just got real and one of your favorite players is absolutely doomed.
Stage 3: Anger
Why would the Tennis Gods do this? Why would they, once again, strike down upon our favorite players a wrath of vengeance that makes you wonder if your cadre of favorites spends their evenings burning off the ears of blind puppies. That is the only logical explanation for their consistent bad luck. We're sure these draws are based on luck and probability, right? They're not rigged?
Fuck you, they're TOTALLY RIGGED, GODDAMIT.
Stage 4: Confusion
Wait...while I was freaking out about Masha it seems that I have lost all semblance of the draw. Who's playing who now? Who landed where? WHY AREN'T THESE THINGS ONLINE??? Twitter says one thing and then two seconds later it says another thing. Contradiction Capital of THE WORLD. I don't understand what's going on!!!! Fed's playing who now? Tomic? JJ? Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez in the final? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!
Stage 5: Futility
Fuck it. I'll wait for the draw to come out.
Stage 6: Disappointment
Oh, the draw's out (men, women)!!! Wait...I STILL CAN'T READ THIS FUCKING THING. If they can release fuckin' "Decision Points" in large print editions, there's certainly no reason they need to use 9-point-.2-inch-spaced-magnifiying-glass-and-a-ruler-required-print. I need to find a printer.
Stafe 7: Acceptance
Ok, fine. I guess all that really did happen. Whatever. Is it Monday yet?