Fly Away

It may be a sign of being really tired. Or maybe I am getting just at bit stir crazy, as this is Week 6 in Stalag Kabul, without any time away for a sanity re-charge. Or maybe the incessant dust, which covers everything with a thin layer of powder each day, temptng me to write 'Wash Me' on everything I see, has started to settle in on my brain and make me crazy. Or maybe I am just grumpy because I am missing Ellen's wedding, and the chance to drink endless free beer provided by Teenie and Bert is quickly passing. But whatever the reason,

THESE DAMN FLIES ARE DRIVING ME FREAKING NUTS!!!!

They are everywhere. They wake me in the morning crawling on my face, I have to fight them off my cereal at breakfast, they crawl in my ear at work. God forbid I ever want to take a nap--I have to cover my face with a towel, or sleep face down, or pull the sheet over my head. I can't catch a break. Only at night do they calm down, but at the first crack of dawn, it's fly time.

And I have to tell you--I ain't normally a wuss. Flies, bugs, spiders--not a problem. C'mon, those days on the farm made me pretty tough. But these flies are different. They are attack flies. They are relentless. I am having dreams about Jeff Goldblum. Man, these things are going to kill me....