Woodpecking is my craft and I have hooned it over the years becoming a refined woodpecker. I know the right drill for every tree in this forrest.

I looked down at my hands, turning my napkin in my lap.

"Now and then life has different plans, I presume. I trust I didn't frustrate."

My words sounded unpleasant, however I implied it that way. Who the damnation did Mr. Drake think he was? There was nothing amiss with being a temp. I profited to have my own, as a matter of fact modest, put. I paid my bills. I carried on with my life. Wasn't that enough?