If you stopped by my office, you'd learn a lot about me without my saying a word. My office isn't just a place to work. It's more like a scrapbook.

First, there is the artwork hanging on my walls.  It ranges from watercolors my daughter created in an art class when she was seven years old to a print I bought on a trip to England right after law school to (of course) that range of diplomas and admissions certificates.

If I am sitting at my desk, just to my right is a small-framed wedding picture.  [Neither of us look like that anymore.]  Up on my file cabinet is a range of pictures of my children starting at just a few years old.  [They don't look like that anymore either.] 

And then there are the sticky notes.  Lots of them. Some are placed neatly on my monitor. Others are still stick to their original pad. 

Honorable mention to the drawer full of business cards, each from a conversation, a handshake, and sometimes a lasting friendship.

If I walked into your office, what story would it tell?