baby lizard karma

I'm a firm believer in karma. What goes around usually comes around and smacks you in the ass with a wet noodle, leaving firm and everlasting burn marks on your lilly white butt cheeks.. unless you're a nudist or scandalous and sunbathe au natural. And if you are, well, we can't be friends because I am far to modest for that. And your butt cheeks are probably a nice golden brown.

I digress.

Anyway, as I am hitting the ladies room for my, oh, 47th trip today (I'd swear people would think I have a cocaine problem if it weren't for this massive stomach I'm somehow managing to swing around every day) I noticed we had a new resident of the 2nd floor ladies bathroom. 

I saw in its eyes. It was salivating at the thought of grabbing on to my unsuspecting feet, chomping down with such fierce determination that the doctors would surely not be able to reattach my big toe. And without a big toe, your balance is rendered pretty useless and therefore, I'd end up in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. And lets face it, that would kill my chances with Ryan. 

Okay, so it really wasn't a Komodo Dragon. 

It might have been more like a baby lizard. But damn if that thing didn't set off the pee sensors a little early and I'd swear I leaked a little more than usual before I could actually sit down. 

I took  note of its locale as I did my business, washed up, and skurried out of there. Then as I got back to my desk, I got to feeling bad for the little guy. He's so lost. He's up on the 2nd floor of some landscape architecture office. He probably misses his family. His mom is probably outside right now putting up fliers on each and every twig and bush she runs across with a reward for information. His best friend isn't going to sleep tonight because he doesn't know if he'll ever share a bug with his buddy again.

This is how my twisted mind works. Kinda like that old Ikea commercial?

So, I make my way back into the dreaded toilet armed and ready. With my random tupperware container and papertowl. Poised to make a difference in this little dude's life! Big things, right? 

And what do I find? His tiny, 1 inch body smooshed into a pancake dead smack in the middle of the floor. Can you believe it? I, admittedly, got tears in my eyes. If only I hadn't been such a pansy the first time I saw him, I could have saved his life!

And now, because I selfishly scurried back to my desk and comfy chair to put my feet up and presumably check everyone's Facebook status (shh! don't tell), he is dead. Done dizzle. Peace out girlscout.

Which ultimately means that karma is now going to come back and smack ME in the ass with a wet noodle, leaving firm and everlasting burn marks on MY lilly white butt cheeks. 

This is not a good day.