Even the light of the computer screen sparks a headache. The slightest sound, that of the rustling of a polythene bag, can trigger a ferocious fury. This, barely two days into the new year, seems unfair and jinxed.
Still here I am, writing for strangers and friends alike, writing for myself. For writing is the best medicine for me. Medicines, often as costly as the doctor thinks you can afford, have also been prescribed. Books ease up the tension that silence brings and radio gives the illusion of company. Strange working hours can make your system go upside down, inside out and yet, at the end of it, you love the liberty of daytime that the job offers. I am raring to go again to the incessant clicking of keyboards and the frequent references to the style book.
It's not just headaches and feeling low. There are things worth looking up to. I have been included in the Mysore Blog Park fraternity. The page rank, that had dropped to 3 some days back, is now again back at 4. Two-three more people now follow my blog. I will be well, soon. In the meanwhile, tell me how have you been...