Journal log entry – I have a bug. I’m sure of it. No, I’m not sick, not that way. It’s a bug that tends to show its inconvenient head when I have an idea. I’ve also recently discovered a few welts from its bites when I’ve tried to use the chat box on the computer. Yes, I’m talking about the parasitic “Typo” bug.

I’m trying to take care of myself, get good sleep, and overdose with vitamin c, but it keeps showing up like a sneeze. You know? You can’t just sneeze once. It usually comes in threes. Well I haven’t fathomed the routine number a flock of typo bugs has, because it’s too high for me to have counted, and if I tried, I really would never get anything done. I don’t know if it knows that I’m talking about it, because it hasn’t reared its little head yet … though I’ve just sneezed … how about that, I only sneezed once. It’s likeley that the other two sneezes are lying in ambush along with the typo, bug. Huh, oh no, the bug just bit twice. Did you see it two sentences back? Did you? Don’t lean too close to the screen now. I … I wouldn’t want you to catch it. I don’t want to be responsible for your high mediacl bills. Oh sugar, it happened AGain. Egad!! That last one nearly bit me! Have to watch that cap lock, they like to hide there. At least I’m not incurable. There is a faint sign of what the words are supposed to look like, but this has got me on edge. You know you don’t want a cold turning into the flu, and I don’t want this typo bug to turn into something I don’t fo … oh bugger … what the heck did that mean. What’s a fo? I didn’t want to say that. What did I want to say? I’m slipping. Yes, yes, my hands are feeling a bit clammy and I’m sure I haven’t eaten any seafood lately. That’s right, that’s what I meant: I don’t want this typod bug turning into something I don’t even know what it will be.

… Was that any better? Typod? What the hell’s a typod!?! What the hecks that? Oh bugger, now I’ve got apostrophitis, the occurrence of leaving out apostrophes. I’m getting worse just when I was trying to figure out what the Dickens a typod was. I think the imp of a bug is trying to warn me of what it will become. I’ve got the signs that something’s taking over.

… Wow … I made it through that last sentence without a bite or a symptom. Huh … I’m almost giddy. I’m telling you, I’m tense and I’m not talking about camping. And don’t think me too foolish. It could strike you. It might have struck you and you don’t even know it. Some of the symptoms go unnoticed … like what just happened to me when I was typing “unnoticed.” I had to pause to think if it actually had two “N’s. Other hidden symptoms are one two many spaces between words. Crikes, now I’m showing signs of punnitis, using the wrong form of a word. My eyes are going. I’m starting to see red and blue and green squiggly lines all over the place as I write this. Next thing I’ll have vertigo. Don’t make fun of me. It’s awful. Words like “civility” trip me up all the time. Fortunately I made it through this time, but what will happen the next time!?! I don’t know. Who ever made these words that have so many recurrences of the same letter in them? Iiiiiiiiii andlllll andttttt … crap … now I’ve dot displacementia. Got I mean. I’m missing breaks between words. Yes, yes I know they weren’t actually words, and that’s probably what made me usceptible. Susceptible I meant!!! No, Im not digressing to word decapitation, though though though yes that was apostrphitis again. Double crap. I meant apostrophitis. But … but that last one didn’t count cause apostrophitis isn’t really a word!!! Oh Lord, not even a word? Listen to me. The strain has progressed. I’ve gone demented. It’s not even a word and I’m fighting about it and not even thinking I should correct it. Oh … mother … of … mercy … that’s poetic license.

I … I’ve only heard of it. I thought they’d eradicated that disease decades ago with some sort of vaccine. Now … now it seems I’ve got it. But I’m so young. I just wonder how much tuime I have left. Oh bother, malignant insertia, putting letters that don’t belong. Of course I’m losing hope by calling it malignant it could be benighn. Crap … maybe not … maybe not. If this is my last testament I pray in heaven’s name I’ve spelled testament write. Oh … I did, how about that, both times … good … good for me. Yes, I know, there’s that punnitis flaring up again. I’m feeling a little lightheaded.

Don’t!!! I told you not to get that close to the screen!!! Are you insane!!! Whataya think this is a joke?! Oh crap. Now I have lost hope … spell check is saying “Whataya” is a word. Hell, I can’t even tell what’s real anymore! Thsiosndht cracy … oh no, what’s just happened? … I’ve either just had a stroke or lost a finger.

Okay, I’m sick. I’m sick. I admit it … but you know what? A lot of you are sick too. Yes … it’s just that you hide it. There are too many good crutches for the literary crippled. No, no, no, not education, no, no, that actually might be a cure … but it hasn’t been proven yet. No, I’m talking about “texting.” No? You think not!?! LOL? What, what, what? You can’t type out “lots of love” or “laughing out loud” or whatever it is wilth out making a mistake. Okay, definitely malignant insertia. I’m sorry, “without,” I meant to say “with…out,” but at least I’m admitting it unlike numerous of you who tweet or twit or whatever it is. Hey, I’m only calling you out so that you can get some desperately needed help for it. There’s help out there, and if you can hold out … maybe someday they’ll have proven education works.

What? Afraid of needles? Don’t worry about it. They have flu mist if you don’t want a vaccination shot. I’m sure where and when they find it works they’ll also offer an education mist.

Just think of this as a public service announcement. Some day you might spell LOL … LLO … and that, now that … would … be malignant.

So myself? I’ll write, and I’d appreciate it if you let me know if any of my symptoms come back. I am on medcation for it now … it takes a little time for it to kick in, thank you … and if you let me know, then I can chart my progress or lack thereof so that the docotor can prescribe what he sees fit. I know. Yes, thank you again for telling me. You know what? I think I’m just going to lie down for a spell … so that I can spell. Ha … now that’s a good turn on a word. You know … there might be hope for me after all.

Signing off,

Roger and out