A Pane

I've posted a picture or two of myself. Most of you know I'm,, well, "fully developed" as a suit salesman tactfully once said. So tell me why, the one fly in the house, can't see me. It's as though I were a pane of glass. Invisible.
The only light in the house, is on, here in the office. It's past my bedtime. I'm ready to write something witty, and bam. Attack of the housefly. He's trying to fly through me. He hits me in the cheek, nose, ear, forehead, gets behind the lens on my glasses, then tries my lips. I swat, regain my train of thought, then round two. Last night I got so angry I started trying to swat him in mid air. I think I tore a rotator cuff AND knocked my glasses off and they hit the fax machine before they hit the floor. I've seen flies act this way in a window. WARNING TO FLIES AND MICE. Build your own %#@%& house to get into in the fall.
Any guesses on why our wire handled fly swatters have bent handles? I suppose picking on a fly makes me a bully. But while I may still have the strength, I'm going to continue trying to drive them thru tables and chairs. I've never done it yet. But I'll keep trying. If flies could communicate, they'd say the same thing my kids used to tell their friends. "Just don't make him mad".