Pardon me, is this Margaritaville?

I got an email from my attorney today. The email that I've been waiting years for. 

I'm not traveling with my computer because there's no wireless here at my brother's house. I have my iPad though, and when AT &T deigns to send me a signal, I get online. The one tiny nubbin of a bar increased long enough for me to check my email around 4 this afternoon, and there it was--complete with an attached document that held a very familiar signature. I had to go out to Staples in order to print it, and afterwards in the sprawling Arundel Mills shopping center, I found a Starbucks. Over an Americano, I read every word.

I hope I understand the legalese thoroughly. That there's no hidden snake pit I'm stepping into.

So I'm here. Where I've been wanting to be. And while it's true that "Margaritaville " is nothing like the way I'd originally imagined it, say two or three years ago, I think I'm lucky to have gotten here in one piece. It's perfect and lovely. A little overcast today, but sky has a strange sheen to it. I'm predicting a rainbow.