I had no idea how I was going to pay the caterer on Saturday.

On Thursday night my bedroom was full of stacked cardboard boxes.

I sat on the edge of the mattress sorting small white envelopes of vendor tips into three separate piles.

Each envelope had a name printed on it in careful calligraphy.

I heard heavy footsteps coming up the wooden stairs.

Ryan walked through the door carrying two heavy plastic crates of reception decorations.

The plastic handles groaned under the weight.