Corona
crisis just rubbed against my shoulders and my overtly overworked brain was
spinning more stories than the virus replicating in humans. Corona hugged me
like the Italians and Namaste was deliberately whimpering away from glory. What,
if I die of pneumonia with such weak lungs what will my sons do they just don’t
know anything about my financial liabilities. Thankfully Netflix never
suggested newer problems apart from those of loan sharks, which I have been
addicted to in past few months.
To me, the subject that required most urgent attention was not mask, gloves or the grocery in lockdown but writing my “WILL”. My son ridiculed me on every call have you written your will, not that he is interested in my inheritance but he tries to encourage me to delve in what I would like to do most. “If you don’t have the time to write your will why don’t you stop seeing the patients and doing all the household chores thrust upon you without your consent? You should first do what is really important to you”. Good, very correct.
So, morning is the best time for bloggers to write as far as I know. My husband just quarantined himself on our first floor room last night as a result of nasal irritation developed due to extreme fumigation done in his consulting chamber. This was being considered a running nose till it disappeared the next morning with no symptom of fever or sore throat and coughing thereby providing a break to our karaoke sessions and hence an early night.
I busied myself for the most terrific morning writing session. My draft is eventually ready. I shall now seek suggestions from my mother and my sister to successfully distribute my assets to my family members. By evening, the draft was torn to pieces as it has lost its validity it was supposed to be my WILL .
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