Picture this odd sight:

Me, sitting in a chair in my green horse-covered thermal pajamas and watching a Cheers DVD, sipping a glass of Zinfandel (hey, I’m on vacation), while literally SWATTING AT FLIES with the fly-swatter a friend once gave me as a gag housewarming gift.

Why are there tiny flies in my apartment in the dead of winter?? Why is Savannah warm enough to harvest flies the day before New Year’s?

And what better way could there be to spend an afternoon? In a minute I might break out the Eggo waffles and make myself a little post-lunch-pre-dinner meal. Yes, it’s a glamorous life for me.