I love making crafts, and the idea of decorating for a party that isn’t my own is starting to sound more fun. Probably because it isn’t my own, I have less of a personal stake in it. Wednesday morning, I walk into work carrying my lunch cooler. I bought a few packaged salads at the grocery store on Sunday. They probably cost more than making the salad from scratch myself, but they don’t take as much time, so packaged salad it is. Mark is already there when I walk in. “Morning, Paige. Hey, do you know what I did with the case file for the Wittles? I can’t find it in my office.” I swallow my laugh, which then gets me coughing. “Uh, yes sir. You mean the Waughtels? I have it right here, sir.” Candace just completed their home study, and I just finished transcribing it. “The home study is all printed up.” I set my purse and cooler on the desk and pull the file from my Stuff I’m Working On stack. Amazing how high that stack tends to get throughout the day. Mark grins. “Wow, thanks, Paige.
