First things first, I’m sitting here wondering if I should have capitalized the word “be” in my blog post title. I am doing a quick mental run-down of what I remember of the rules for capitalization and punctuation, and drawing a total blank. I also think this will likely haunt me for the rest of the evening. Or perhaps I should say early morning, since it’s almost 2 AM in my corner of the universe.
Back to the topic at hand. I am getting *that* feeling — you know the one: the sinking feeling of doom that seems to bungee from your head right down to your toes and tells you that the thing you’re thinking, which you most certainly don’t want to be true, really is true. Yeah. THAT feeling. And I am confident you all managed to hang in there and interpret my rambling, stream-of-consciousness, run-on sentence. Because you are all intelligent and wonderful people. And I am certain you will also forgive me for said rambling sentence, too. Because, as already mentioned, you are wonderful people. And also because it’s almost 2 in the blessed AM, and I should be asleep. Or, at the very least, tucked into bed happily playing Hay Day on my iPad.
But I am not asleep … Or playing Hay Day. (Why is that game so darn addictive, anyhow? I blame the pigs. Seriously. Those pigs are hella cute.)
A few weeks ago, my husband told me, in response to me bemoaning the death of my latest beloved Logitech DeNovo keyboard (which, by the way, the company no longer manufactures), “I think you should switch to a mechanical keyboard. I think it’s the only way you are going to end up with a keyboard that will make you happy. And that will last.” This might seem like a strange sort of conversation for two married people to have. Or maybe it doesn’t. We’ve certainly had stranger. But the idea that my husband was spending his valuable free time (and probably some of his work time, too) considering my keyboard needs gave me a serious case of the warm & fuzzies. Because that’s love, folks. If you have a mate who considers your computing needs, you need to hang on to them for dear life. At any rate, I had never considered a mechanical keyboard or the benefits of mechanical vs. regular keyboards. And so I simply replied as most dutiful wives would. I said, “Yes, Dear.” And went along my merry way, not giving the matter another thought. Tonight, though, the whole mechanical vs. regular debate came home to roost in a very big way — in the form of my very own, mechanical keyboard.
And so, I am sitting here in my little office typing away and feeling giddily excited over one of the best Mother’s Day presents I have ever received. This keyboard is beyond awesome. It’s in the realm of “Flipping Fantastic”, and you guys know I don’t use those words lightly. It has the perfect push and release action, and that wonderfully “clicky” noise I love so much. Seriously, I love the noise this thing makes. But, as if that wasn’t enough … The dang thing lights up like the console of a space cruiser. I can set it to different modes, my favorite one being where the lights ripple across the board whenever I press a key. I say “I” can set it, but, in reality, the only person in my household who knows how the darn thing works is my 11-year old daughter. But whatever. So long as I have light ripples, I am a happy, happy woman. And there is a light-up snake on the space bar.
A Light Up Snake.
Can we just take a moment or two to let the pure awesomeness of this tidbit sink in?
Yeah. I don’t even like snakes. At all. But I love this feature. Plus, I (meaning my daughter) can set the snake to light up in blue. Blue!!! This is so far beyond amazing that I don’t even know what it is. I’m not sure there are words to describe the level of brain-gasm I am experiencing at this moment.
Which brings me back around to my initial premise: I think I may be a little bit odd. I could have had jewelry for Mother’s Day. Or flowers. Or perfume. But, instead, the little girl who lives in my brain is squealing her heart out over a keyboard. A clicky keyboard with a light up snake on the space bar. EEEEEK!
As my husband loves to say, “It is what it is.” Which, actually, I don’t even know what that means. Of course the thing is whatever it is. What else would it be? And yet, the saying seems oddly appropriate at this moment.