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.
Penelope receives a drunk invitation from the wilderness.
The terrain is reviewed.
Rugged spontaneity theater is declined.
Abby handles perimeter security.
Entry protocol is established.
