Stalking The Lizard
I hate touchy feely stuff: self-help books, "Ziggy," figurines of babies and angels, inspirational posters, and anything of the "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" ilk. Generally, I am not a cantankerous old broad, a jaded 36. In fact, I find that I am not bitchy enough, to my own detriment. Regardless, I have my moments where I just want to fucking strangle anyone within spitting distance. I'll give the finger to any schmuck who merely drives a mile below the speed limit in front of me. I'll scowl at children. I'll bite your head off. There is a fine line between me and a maniac, and you are damn lucky I am on the right side of the line. It is often on days like this that I am pleasantly surprised by something that just seems to melt the tension off my shoulders like a hot stone massage, something that if interpreted in a certain way could be of the inspirational schlock that I abhor.
Yesterday my pleasant surprise came in the form of a lizard. See this lizard has been hanging outside my office for the past month, laying his belly on the hot bricks surrounding a office park foliage display of ivy. Most of the time when I'd try to get close to the lizard, he would slither away into the greenery. Yesterday I am not sure if he was just loving the 85 degree weather, or just loved me. I decided he loved me. I was able to get pretty close with my camera phone. Say what you will about camera phones, they are perfect for moments like this. This damn lizard, a male broadhead skink at that, made my day. Perhaps I'll print these photos onto a puffy paint sweatshirt. Hmmmm....