The worst thing about being with someone who knows you very well is that occasionally they acquire new information.
And then you have to keep living with them.
In the same house.
The worst thing about being with someone who knows you very well is that occasionally they acquire new information.
And then you have to keep living with them.
In the same house.
Thirty. Nine.
That is a bus route. That is a shoe size in Europe. That is too many little chapters about two adults with jobs behaving like this.
Thank you for reading, and also: what are we doing? But, genuinely. Thank you.
Nothing dramatic happens
Jack gives a reasonable answer about stairs.
Penelope discovers that reasonableness can be obscene.
This one felt a little more private than usual to post, which is obviously an excellent reason to put it on the internet.
A viewing is requested.
Expectations are lowered preemptively.
Penelope discovers several new things about herself in real time.
Jack is, unfortunately, paying attention.
A future hypothetical becomes unnecessarily detailed.
Terms are established.
Dinner becomes briefly procedural.
Supporting evidence is introduced.
Penelope stages a tribunal.
A vegetable-related incident occurs.
Jack becomes extremely employable.
Administrative paperwork exceeds scope.
The zucchini survives.
Dinner does not recover.
A private joke receives public funding.
Jack exceeds scope.
Furniture becomes contentious.
Penelope develops an interest in floor-based logistics.
A forward journey is supported.
A hotel carpet becomes personally offensive.
Jack conducts a routine inspection.
Penelope is assigned one factual task and develops an ethics problem.
Pants occur.