The Best News Ever

I am overjoyed to be back on my little laptop, sucking up the free signal at the St. Peters Bakery, which is part of the St. Peters renaissance, taking back the sweet creek-side village from the clutch of biker gangs. But that is not the best news ever.
On Tuesday after work, I stopped by the Credit Union that holds my car loan to make my monthly payment, as usual not a minute before it was due. I was smelling like coffee and my dogs were barkin'. The teller was sweet and helpful and looked up my account, as I can never remember the number. "It looks like this will be your last payment" she said. I stared in disbelief with a big, dumb smile on my face. I guess I had not been paying close attention and had resigned myself to car payments until the end of time. I thanked her profusely (as though she had payed off the loan herself) and she said "I always like to give good news". "This is the best news I've ever gotten!" I said.
When I got out to MY car, I told Nigel that at last he really belonged to me and thought we should do something to celebrate, but we were both hot and tired and so we went home to rest, he in the carport and I on the couch.