post op

it wasn't a red day affair for me as compared to most of those i know. on the very eve, i was busy doing tons of paperwork, that i dint care if my bags sag or my hair disheveled. and even if i did have the strongest urge to call his cellphone and greet, poverty also slip in my recesses and have won my decision not too. afterall, its the thought that counts. probably he knew of that.

on the very day, i was thrashed out with muscle spasms and headaches, spent the rest of the day on bed, woke up and continued my triathlon of dibidis spared with popcorns and cereals.

nothing really special about it, but yes, it's a good day.