My Office Space, A Burial Ground

My new "office" (cubicle)has both pros and cons compared to my cubicle from Old Job (may she rest in peace). For example, while I no longer have to listen to my colleagues on the telephone detailing their latest diet dramas to their girlfriends, making doctor's appointments, administering questionnaires about the particulars of fecal occult blood testing to old people, or ordering their husbands around,I have entirely new sources of aural pollution to content with. Here's what I'm dealing with:

1. a constant drone from the dying ballast in the fluorescent lights directly above my head (which won't be fixed until they're actually dead)
2. the intermittent grinding sounds of my hard-drive and fan of my cpu
and, my favorite, the newly added component to this symphony of office sounds:
3. the dying buzz, over the last 4 days, of a lost fly, desperately trying to find it's way back to the light---of the droning fluorescent bulb directly above me.

Today, the fly, let's call him Henry, is only intermittently buzzing, and while I am simultaneously sad about his eventual demise yet looking forward to the eventual silence that will come with his passing, with each moment of his silence, I become increasingly nervous about his impending final flight--a drop, stiff little fly bits and all--onto my desk...or into my coffee...or (G-d forbid), down my shirt.