Wrinkled Lizards

Wrinkled fingers. That is the worst thing in the world, dishwater-wrinkled-fingers and hands. I began my evening at home with the best of intentions, I was going to make an indent on the mess that insists on putting the 2nd law of thermodynamics to the test and demonstrate that matter, when left to its own devices, will disintegrate. Of course the particular matter that lies around my place happens to have been helped along a little, namely by yours truly, and it could be the 1st law of thermodynamics for all I care, my point was that, oh I can't remember anymore, oh well! Ah yes, I was going to clean up my place! So I started the process by going to my mom's office to hang out and chat, for 30 minutes. Then I exercised (because you can't do vigorous exercise after you eat) and did my Leslie Sansone Walk-at-Home video, for 30 minutes. After that I watched something while I ate my supper, for an hour? I can't remember. Then I washed the dishes, for 30 minutes. Two days' worth, first because I'm lazy and second because it doesn't bother anyone but me if there are dirty dishes in the sink and third because I don't use many dishes at a meal and it's kinda sad to see a lone plate and bowl sitting in the dish rack keeping company with a single knife and spoon. Depressing!!! Now I have a full dish rack which puts a smile on my face! And wrinkled fingers. Now that definitely does not put a smile on my face because wrinkled dishwater fingers are the worst feeling in the world, even worse than all that leftover gunk at the bottom of the dirty dishwater. Well, the ultimate horrible feeling would be washing those wrinkled hands after I've finished wiping down the countertops.

Okay, enough of that!!!

I still haven't done any tidying up (because now I'm blogging!) and now I have a lizard. I'm not exactly sure how he got in, because I keep my windows firmly shut, but he must have slipped in under the door because he can't be more than 5 inches long. I watched him creep across my carpet like a miniature iguana, kinda creepy like. Now I don't mind lizards, too much, except that growing up in Africa I have bad memories of opening up our mosquito nets at night and lizards dropping out of the bundled up net. Thankfully we'd be standing by the bed during this procedure and not lying in the bed, but it was always a dance to get those lizards out of our room. I called home and asked Michael what to do about my lizard and he said to let it be; it would eat my flies and spiders (not that I have any!). So for now, I will let the tiny gremlin share my living quarters as long as he behaves himself!