Fly Away

On Saturday night I was irritated by a fly. I have no idea how it got into my apartment, and I'm wondering if I have a hole in a window screen somewhere. I unsuccessfully tried to kill it with a roll of paper towels - for half an hour. The fly made dinner making more complicated, as it kept hovering over my chicken bits and veggies, coming within millimeters of my about-to-be-devoured meal. Then I lost the fly's location and decided I had hit it enough to knock it unconscious and send it flailing into some dusty corner.


I woke up on Sunday around 9am. Intent on meeting a friend at the Pasadena Descanso gardens, I hurriedly got dressed, cooked up a breakfast of eggs and bacon, and heated yesterday's coffee in the microwave. I got dressed, ate breakfast and finished my coffee with the exception of one gulp remaining. I grabbed my keys, my purse, put on my shoes and reached for my cup. With the last sip, a clump of what I thought was coffee grinds hit my lips. I stopped and looked into my cup to investigate the confusing dark mass. Guess that fly got the best of me - it had been steeping its flavor in my cup o' joe. Looking back at me, there it was - dead, on the cusp of my cup.

How many diseases do you think I just inherited?