The Trials of Everyday Life (open to anyone)
Jack was standing almost as still as a statue, as he had been for the past eight minutes already. He was trying to do more in the way of helping out with things around the apartment, but just like when he'd been staying at the shelter, every so often he ran into something that just made his brain... not move. It was like dealing with a radio with a large number of presets, but no tuner.

He knew who published various magazines, he knew what kinds of movies he liked, he knew the major broadcasters, he knew the most popular publicly accessible clothing brands.

But here he was, absolutely boggled over whether Marcia's peanut butter needs would be met simply by "crunchy" or if they required "super crunchy". He wasn't even sure if the latter was more intensive than "chunky".