The Random Yak

I spent the morning trying to work while a big, hairy fly circled the flourescent lights above my desk.

Every time I tried to focus, he started up again. 

BZZZ BSSSS BSSS BZZZZ BSSS BZZZZ.

Around and around and around, bumping into the light in a futile attempt to fry himself on the environmentally-friendly, eye-strainingly yellow bulbs. 

Periodically, he took a break from his incessant buzzing and bumping to try and find freedom through the large sliding door near the desk.  As fate (and my preferences) would have it, the door stayed closed (they’re mowing outside, and I don’t like the noise).  Not that the fly noticed.  Or cared.

BZZZ BSSSS BSSS BZZZZ BSSS BZZZZ.

Light to window…window to light, in a neverending cycle of bump and buzz, bump and buzz.

A better Yak might have chased him from the room with a flyswatter.  But I haven’t got a flyswatter.

A sicker Yak might have killed him with a tissue.  But I haven’t got a tissue.

An angrier Yak might have chucked a stapler – missing the fly, but shattering either the light fixture or the window.  Fortunately for my landlord and my bank balance, I left the stapler alone.  (Probably more because I needed it than from any aversion to throwing it, but that’s another story.)

BZZZ BSSSS BSSS BZZZZ BSSS BZZZZ.

As the morning passed, I surveyed my desk, looking for an appropriate projectile or other means of eliminating the buzzing sound competing with the usual noises in my head.  I found none.  At present, the objects within reach consist of the aforementioned stapler, a framed photograph of the Random Spouse and me on the ski slope (more on this later…it deserves its own entry), a half-dead plant, a laser printer, a coffee cup and about a thousand sheets of paper, the bulk of which relate to a supplementary accounting I’m working on for a client. 

Not a good ranged weapon among them, save perhaps the stapler and the coffee cup, and the day I ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee over a fly … well, let’s just say that’s a dawn none of us want to see.

Reduced to watching (and listening), I considered my options.  Then, just as “go home and leave the office to the fly” nosed ahead of the rest of the pack, the fly made a critical error.

He landed on my desk.  Right in the middle of the accounting.

Without even thinking, I did what any Yak in my position would do.  I picked up the nearest file and whacked him.  HARD. 

Thus endeth the fly.  After scooping his hairy little corpse into the waste bin (minus a leg or two) I have emerged from the morning’s dispute victorious and unscathed.  The small black smudge and hairy leg stuck to the back of the accounting represent the scars of a battle well-fought and cleverly won.

I may not have accomplished much else of consequence today, but it doesn’t matter now.  After all, it’s the little victories that keep us going.

Trackposted to Big Dog’s Weblog, The Bullwinkle Blog, third world county, and Adeline and Hazel, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.