Almost Speachless

What a day, what a day, what a day.

It's not even 7 o'clock and I am 100% completely exhausted. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

As of this very moment, Squiggy seems to be doing just fine, swimming around his tank like a madman as if he were on roids. The color in his bottom fins however is still a sickening red.

Dad came over earlier to hang my new curtain rod and drapes in my bedroom, finally bringing my Renaissance theme to a culmination. It's amazing how a simple window treatment - to coin a decorating phrase - can really provide that last pleasing punch that finishes off a room. It looks beautiful.

Dad also surprised me with a late just for me Christmas present. If you heard that loud dropping sound earlier, you can be certain it was just my jaw hitting the floor in record time as my Father pulled out a black canvas carrying bag.

"Try this out and tell me what you think," he said, putting the bag on my dining room table. My eyes close to watering, I reached out my hand.

"Is this what I think this is?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Go ahead and open it," he said, watching me as I slowly started to pull back the zipper.

"Is this Becky's?"

"No. It's yours."

"Oh my God! Are you kidding? You're kidding right? You can't be serious," I yelled, trying to draw breath back into my lungs. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Now don't get too excited, it's pretty old. But it should work."

I wanted to cry. Happy tears, of course.

"As long as I can write, that's all I need it to do."

And so dear readers, this writer has been blessed with a laptop of her very own, courtesy of two very wonderful people, my Dad and his friend Eldon.

I am a very lucky girl indeed. Lucky and very thankful.