Do flies copulate in mid-air?

If we leave our balcony door open in the mornings by noon we have half a dozen flies flying about in our living room.

If we leave the balcony door open into the evening... the flies go away. This is a bit disturbing... I hope they are flying out.

It's like they commute into the office in the morning and then leave again in the afternoon. Or I'm just going a bit insane.

So when they are here, they spend the entire day flying around in circles. Just over there. In reality, just in the one spot. Again, I'm thinking desks in an office... insanity creeps up on you, you know.

Sometimes they meet in mid-air and briefly fly around each other. So are they having sex? In mid-air? Is this office romance? Are the co-workers finding they have a lot in common, and getting to know each other really well?

Or is this just a plot to drive me insane? I don't like driving, so I guess it's nice to have a chauffeur, but I do get dizzy watching them fly around in circles.

Will I ever paint again?

No, not a whine about losing abilities... just a long think about painting that makes me wonder if I ever will paint again.

Wall painting, not artistic painting. Just to be clear.

My spouse and I have just spent yet another long weekend painting. We painted the kitchen and a hallway that hadn't been painted yet. And now we are done. We moved in about 12-13 months ago, and had managed to get almost everything except a washroom, the kitchen, and the hallway painted before we moved in. And we are now declaring ourselves finished.

You know... you can pay people to paint walls for you.

Yes, that is true. This is what we told ourselves last time we finished painting a new home. We vowed "we will pay someone to do this next time". This was next time. We did it ourselves again.

But we do so much better than others. The painting mess we just painted over was badly done. No, we don't know who did it, but we have our suspicions. The place was bought by the previous owners with the intention of fixing it up and flipping it. They didn't live here, they just rented it out. So who did the walls? The cheapest labour possible. Judging by the appliances that were put in (all new, all cheap) that's all we can say.

But what about the next time we need walls painted?

We never expected to paint again. Of course, we never expected to be middle aged, we never expected to be married for 20 years either. Just when did that happen? When did those years fly past? Where did they go?

So what about next time? We said "never again" last time, but that didn't happen this time. Is life too long for "never again"?