strings

day 3 of spending my waking and non-waking hours in a horizontal position. time to notice hitherto unnoticed details on the ceiling. and i am surprised - it is clean! i offer my congratulations to mom, who seems pleased with the compliment. my good deed for the day. 

there is a puppet show going on in the street below, n i do not dare to stand up and watch from the balcony for fear of my head falling off from all the heaviness. the puppeteer is pretty expressive, though. i can almost see the queens and the kings dancing their suggestive govinda-style dances with abandon, to the accompaniment of shrill toots from the artist's whistle.

the last time he was here, the kinders of the entire society had turned up for the show, which was a good excuse for the moms to come too. seeing all that, my mom decided to take her kinder to the show as well, n we both went down with the others and sat through an hour of wars, falling-in-loves, abductions, murders, filmy-style dances and other tales of high romance. 

missed it this time. darn the fever.

..................................................................................................

another thing. a doubt. serious one. quite life threatening. not my life, but some other poor hapless soul's.

i have had it said to me in a very authoritarian manner that the surefire remedy for hypothyroidism is matrimony ! reason being, if one gets wed, one will worry less.( at which point, a thousand questions screamed to be answered, but i swallowed them, like a good indian girl threatened with the wedding-word) 

do pheromones counterbalance thyroid production? why does all this sound so embarrassingly freudian?

if any medicos are reading this, answer right now.