There's a Fly in My Room

I’d like to preface the subject of this blog with this tidbit of information, which I deem to be extremely relevant: I rarely spend time in my own bedroom.  I use it for its intended purpose, which is to sleep, change, and occasionally do laundry (stress occasionally).  With that said, I will proceed.

In my absence, there has been an invasion.  Now, I hold it to be self-evident that most people hate flies.  They are, afterall, part of the pestilence of Egypt. 

My 1^st Encounter:

Unassumingly I was lying in my own bed, somewhere between fully conscious and REM when I hear a faint buzzing in my ear.  I awaken to no tangible evidence of foul play and therefore chalk my experience up to a dream.  I now know that I was wrong, devastatingly so.

2^nd Encounter:

I awaken in the morning to the sound of light rain on the roof.  As I am laying there being lulled back to sleep by the steady beat, I hear it-the buzzing sound again and its getting closer and closer.  I frantically wave to and fro to locate the cause of this irritating sound and….whack!  The fly dive-bombed me!  It is then that I realize this fly has a death wish.

3^rd Encounter:

A day has gone by.  No word from the opposing force.  Unguarded and unaware, I descended to my room to sleep.  The noise.  The awful noise reminding me of my pesky problem arises in my ear.  Finally I see my attacker for the first time in my bed!  Assuming control of the void space in my room is one thing, but I equate this grievance to that of assuming a king’s throne!

Now it has occurred to me that this fly may have mistaken my absence in my room as the abdication of my throne.  Honestly, I can see that.  It’s not altogether absurd; it’s just not the reality of the case.

I asked myself, how long do these dastardly life forms live anyway?  I looked it up.  Two weeks to a month!  Oh no, no, no.  It is time for this imposter to go now.  Excuse me, cyberspace, I must go recapture my kingdom…where do we keep those fly swatters anyway?