It was about 5 o'clock yesterday when a colleague poked her head in my door to say good-night. "I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself," she told me. "Since my husband is home today, I was able to stay a little late and take care of some things."
I nodded. "It's kind of nice to be here when it's so quiet," I agreed. "You really can get a lot done."
She frowned. "But it's good to have a reason to go home, too," she said.
"Like you, before your dog died," she added.
I was silent.
"But now? You just stay too late, and you probably don't even get that much done. Have a good evening!" she finished.