I suddenly recalled this awful incident and feel compelled to blog.
I was at the gym last week. I happily walked over to the windows, open them up one by one to let the fresh air come in (you know how the gym sometimes stink after people worked out with air-con on!). Then I felt a splat on my right forearm. I thought it was a leaf, looked down on it, but saw a big, black lizard. I jumped and SCREAMED at the top of my lungs - I couldn’t decide which one I did first. Or maybe I did both at the same time. The poor lizard leapt away for his dear life onto the floor, but I was still in my screaming mode until I felt safe enough to shut up.
OMG. I am so useless.
I felt a like a ball of emotions - I felt like an idiot for screaming like an idiot (thank goodness I didn’t have the opportunity to scare the sh*t out of whoever was in the room cos I was alone). I felt sorry for the lizard for scaring him. I felt very angry at the lizard for scaring me. I felt like hunting him down to make sure he was very far away from me (maybe it’s a she but you know I’m heavily influenced by the french now, they like to use masculine particles to refer to things if not specified). I felt like my forearm was dirty because the lizard was really, black. I felt like going to wash my arm but decided it’s too gu-niang. I felt lazy too. I felt disgusted by myself for being lazy to wash my arm after being ‘tainted’ by a dirty lizard.
So the next thing I did was to distract myself with Jason Mraz on my ipod and just worked it out.
Honestly, Bevlyn.
I am ok with lizards on the streets, on the roads, on the wall, 10cm infront of me, but not ON me! YUCKS!





