“This is totally ridiculous,” I muttered to myself while sorting through what felt like a million different files strewn across my desk.
“What’s more ridiculous,” asked Bee from her seat by the window as she looked outside onto the main street in Willow Bay. “The fact that you’re the least organized person on the planet, or the fact that you know this and still refuse to let Karen actually handle the work she was hired to do?”
I glared at Bee from behind my desk. I knew exactly what I was looking for: a letter from the city asking me to participate in some capacity in the Willow Bay Summer of Fun festival. I knew it was in this pile somewhere. Just because I didn’t know exactly where it was didn’t make me that disorganized, did it?
Willow Bay was a cute little seaside resort town on the Oregon Coast. Sheltered by the bay from the strong ocean currents, Willow Bay was about an hour from Portland, and every summer we were inundated by tourists looking to escape the city and spend a few days in our calm waters of the Pacific Ocean. We held a festival every year that featured food trucks, water-based competitions including the top surfing competition in the state, and family fun everywhere.