599: the Sick Bed

Like Gregor Samsa awaking to find himself transformed into a giant beetle, I awoke on Sunday morning to find myself transformed into a giant bag of stinking liquids. Gregor finds himself excluded and a burden on his family whereas I find myself slightly sickly and cared for by my new wife, In sickness and in health. I'm just trying to get as much caring out of the deal as possible. Soon enough I suppose it'll be my turn to be fulfilling all those lifelong promises of loving and caring. Great! I can't wait! Being sick sucks. Being married is great.

How could you describe sickness to one unable of becoming sick? Someone like Lieutenant Data before the emotion chip, or T-101 before doing that thing with his learning CPU. (aside: has anyone noticed that at one point he asks why do you cry? and another he claims to have detailed files on human anatomy. I would have thought that would have helped answer his question. On second thoughts, maybe it wouldn't. If he knew about physical causes of tears, such as dust, he may have thought he had the complete information, but on learning more about humans from protecting John he discovered there were other less tangible causes. Perhaps that is why he asked. I digress.)

Anyway, I don't imagine it would be easy. I'm sick (don't worry, I'm better know). What do you mean sick? I am not functioning to the best of my abilities. My input and output circuits are overloading, backed up, leaking, shorting out. My CPU is overheating and my internal cooling fan is all shit up. I must go into offline mode, perform checks, wipes and scans.

It's not convincing, is it. Explaining it in random, uncertain, meaningless sort-of computery sounding words isn't really doing it for me. Kafka definitely had a proper good idea with that thing about the big beetle. That's why he is him, an I am me. ….pffff.....

I'm rusty. Bye.