Battling the X

That was a nasty little experience. You see, this thing dubbed the X-parasite infected and nearly killed me. It took a week, and a vaccine derived from the much-maligned Metroid, to beat the bug (well, all but this smoker’s cough I still have). I was then sent to exterminate the X; only later did I realize that the parasite mimicked those it infected, and so I had a full-power version of myself wandering around. Hunting me. What a bitch.

And I also had this damn annoying computer telling me what to do the entire time. “Brent,” the AI would say, “it seems that plants have jammed up the generator. Find the plant monster responsible and execute it.” “Oh noes! Teh self-destruct si been activatared!!!!11 Shut it down before we all burn!” “My boots haven’t been licked in twenty minutes. Fix that.” And so on.

While recovering from Albert’s X-infection, I also managed to pass it on to my entire family. Oops.

There’s something disturbing about seeing your folks and sister fall ill at the exact same time. Especially when “falling ill” means sleeping the entire day, with breathing that sounds more like moaning and less like breathing. That appears to have been the worst point, though; now they’re just sleeping without moaning.

Or else they’re sleeping without breathing. Maybe I should check on that.

I don’t want to know how much I missed in my lindy hop class, and I don’t want to face the pile of paper that’s waiting for me at work. This illness has left me with the feeling that I’ve just skipped forward a week—and for good reason! Now I have to pick up the pieces of my life; fortunately, my life’s not all that big and can’t possibly break into that many pieces.

Perhaps the most entertaining thing I passed my unblinking, glassy eyes over during my X-infection were these papers that were supposedly turned in for grades:

Biography: Walt Whitman

Plains, Trains, and Plantains (hat tip to Brian for this one)

Additionally, the coolest thing I came across immediately prior to falling ill was this illustration of how cool our postal workers can be: camera mail.

 

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