This morning I was sitting at my computer stewing over a minor problem that is probably not important to anyone but me, but had been weighing on my mind.
I was getting more frustrated. I wanted to spend my time writing but instead I was worrying and my worry was just taking me round and round in circles. I was grumpy. I was stuck.
And then this minuscule little fly thingy showed up and started doing what most flies seem to do with me …head for the eyeball, up the nose, or into the ear. You have no idea the envy I feel for those who seem to be able to confine flies to their faces or arms, in the closed areas where there is no access to your brain. I am sure they want to eat my brains. That is what my brother always told me and I believed him. Don’t tell me he was lying. If your force me to give up this then I have to give up the good things he told me, like once he said I was destined for greatness and I even though he was drunk, I need to believe that he saw something in me.
Usually I can make sweeping hand grabs at the little things and get them in short order but this one was clearly double jointed and escaped my every effort. It was so tiny that I could not follow it in the air and even though I have to accept it could have actually been a normal sized, or even very large fly, and it was my eyesight that failed me and made it impossible to catch him …. I just could not get the darn thing.
It was an all out launching of war in the room. It kept buzzing me and dropping on my skin for just a second and taking off and disappearing before I could even think about raising my hand to swat it. Every time I rearranged things and thought I could get writing, there it was again reminding me I was its prisoner.
After a few minutes I had surrendered any hope of being able to write and I was sitting in my chair swatting wildly in the air with both hands – each coming and going in different directions, standing up and sitting down and swearing trying to get the damn annoying little fly. And then I realized the window was open and my neighbour was standing in her yard looking over to the house with a look that kind of went somewhere between fear, mild horror, and real concern.
I closed the window as quietly as I could.
I got up and walked out of the room and got a drink of water and just looked out at the garden for a few minutes. One of my birds hopped down onto the back of one of our chairs to give me a little song and a head nod. It made me smile.
And when I came back into the office and sat down in my chair the little fly was gone.
Or perhaps it was just my attention on it that was gone.
Well played universe, well played.