The tapping was incessant. Irritating. Ken glanced up from the football game to watch her. Sarah's pink fingernails drummed against the desk. From index to pinky, over and over, as if the typing motion would will her thesis into existence. It had been weeks. The same thing, same routine. Ken woke at 5 am to work out, shower, then head downtown to his job. Sarah usually roused around 6:30 am. She led him in yoga. She'd bee...