Kissing

I seem to spend my entire time in Qatar NOT kissing my husband. When we're at work I do not kiss my husband. When he drops me at the shops I do not kiss my husband. When we're walking down the street, or meeting at a
restaurant or doing just about anything, I do not kiss my husband. We started to find that  spending so much time being careful not to kiss was knocking the habit out of us altogether. This was not acceptable.
So now we have our own rule, that we have to kiss whenever we travel in our apartment lift. From the moment the door closes, until the moment before they open (and conditional on us being alone, obviously). Have you ever kissed for a whole twenty one floors before? It's a jolly long time. It takes discipline...and circular breathing...and staying power.
Our journey down in the morning marks the switch from couple to colleagues. The return journey in the afternoon heralds the transformation back again. Any other trips out of the flat are a bonus. Except the trip back up from the gym with red sweaty faces - we get to pass on that one.