Break-ups are sad, but divorce is dreadful. Twenty-eight-year-old Maggie’s marriage is over after 608 days. Her husband, Jon, has moved out, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Maggie now orders burgers in the middle of the night, invents reasons not to shower, watches English and Scandinavian murder programmes, lists things that have made her cry, feels melancholy while eating yoghurt and occasionally works as a research assistant and teacher. Her skills extend to being ‘reasonably proficient with JSTOR’ and telling students about plagiarism.

She explains to her bespectacled academic boss that she is unsure how or when the divorce is happening. Unfortunately, by the end of the novel, Maggie still hasn’t figured out the divorce (although she is stunned that it involves paperwork and lawyers who itemise their fees). Her existence is flat.