Ricochay's Log, date 2009 04 07.
Day 3 with 'the sickness' and this seemingly innocuous illness is ravaging my core. I'm constantly dizzy and somehow both of my sinuses are clogged, an apparent attempt by this virus to cut off my breathing supply and limit my calorie intake. Several times today I think it succeeded, but I was able to regain composure before falling to the ground.
I have been bombarding the sickness with bad vibes and ill-will, but this doesn't seem to be working. In fact, at some point earlier today I could hear distant laughter coming from behind my nose, but that may have been a co-worker sitting in a cubicle near mine. I can't be 100% sure, so I am taking every precaution necessary against a number of people in the office, for they may be aiding the sickness.
I think the sickness has actually embedded itself in the tip of my nose and is relishing the constant interaction with the lotion-reinforced tissues I have been using. Out of necessity, I used a paper towel at one point, and my nose recoiled in horror. Whether this was the sickness, or the pain I actually felt from the Bounty, I can't tell.
I have been having weird, vivid dreams. This is something unusual for me normally, and I am convinced this is the sicknesses way of messing with my mind while I sleep.
Fear not, dear reader. I have a plan. I have heard of a young man named Osmosis Smith who may be the key to my winning this heroic battle. Apparently, Mr. Osmosis lives deep inside my body and works as a member of my own Immunity. He is a valiant foe of the sickness. If I am able to get a message of hope, strength and resiliency to Mr. Osmosis, I am sure this will bolster his spirits and give him the confidence he needs to ward off the sickness. I am sending this message of hope to Mr. Osmosis via an Advil Cold and Flu tablet and I am certain it will help. I heard that a cousin of Osmosis Smith, a man by the name of Osmosis Jones, once helped the one and only Bill Murray beat a sickness as well.
I pray this message get to Mr. Osmosis quickly. Earlier today, I am positive my pasta and meatballs addressed me in perfect Spanish, which as we all know is impossible. Pasta and meatballs are Italian.
I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't hallucinate when ill.
PS - Note that Pea herself seems to be doing a great job warding off her sickness. She too is stuffy, but booby juice and homemade soup seem to be helping a lot.