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.
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.
Penelope prepares for the collapse of society.
Jack contributes shelving.
Penelope arrives dressed for dinner with no apparent regard for neutrality.
Jack experiences several internal staffing failures.
Maggie serves dinner under increasingly compromised circumstances.
Potatoes are endangered.
A grip is requested.
A grip is not produced.
Final part of the small moral emergency trilogy.
The system fails.
Penelope attempts to be less weird.
Jack makes several logistical corrections.
Nobody is rescued.
Something does come back.
This one is about what happens when you notice something ugly in yourself and then attempt to correct it using the worst possible internal management system.
Penelope does learn a lesson.
Unfortunately, she immediately makes the lesson weird.
Everyone is trying. Everyone is tired. Nothing technically happens, which is one of the more violent forms of happening.
A system is developed.
The system is deranged.
This one is about a coffee lid, unfortunately.
It is also about the tiny laundering machine in my brain that occasionally takes something morally sticky, runs it through a gentle cycle, and hands it back labeled Respectful Behavior.
Which is inconvenient, because sometimes it is respectful behavior.
And sometimes there is a second thing behind it with its little awful hands on the wheel.
I don’t think shame fixes much. I do think naming the thing can. Or at least it gives you half a second more than you had before – which, apparently, is sometimes the whole moral structure.
Anyway. Coffee lid. A completely normal beverage accessory. Naturally it ruined my life.
A demonstration is requested.
Penelope offers a lukewarm review.
Corrective measures are taken.
Someone says something emotionally devastating on the rug.
Hi everyone,
There it is, Chapter 10, concluding this little story. I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading, for your lovely comments, and for your support. Take care!
If you have any questions, need someone to talk to, or would like to post your story on the story blog, feel free to contact me at lovis.johnson123@gmail.com.
All the best,
Lovis
Hi everyone!
Tiny housekeeping note: I’m going to take a short pause from posting.
The story isn’t going anywhere. Jack and Penelope remain, tragically, Jack and Penelope.
Thank you so much to everyone reading, commenting, messaging, lurking fondly, and generally being very kind about this whole thing. It means a lot. An annoying amount, actually.
Back soon-ish.
I didn't get around to editing the last chapter of Long Term. My apologies!
To make it up to my lovely (and very patient) readers, I have a little treat for you: my ebook Lobster, with a straw is discounted for the next few days. If you’ve read it and enjoyed it, I’d be eternally grateful if you left a review on Goodreads!! Thank you so much!
I was inspired by an Instagram post, so this is a little shoutout to everyone reading wherever you happen to be, and to Rowan, the wonderful artist behind this illustration 💚
See you next week!
Lovis
Penelope behaves like a public nuisance, Jack behaves like a narc, and his family is, unfortunately, delighted.