"The Final Countdown" has, appropriately, been stuck in my head all morning. Pagination, margins, print tests, snap/to, etc etc etc: my capacity for switching roles, especially without space between – as is the general way it goes in the summer – is at a low ebb (not that I'm very good at it any other time during the year). Snippy/snappy, et al.

And yet here I am – even though I told myself that it probably wasn't a good idea to do these morning things while the PRESS (A) endgame is being run. While I generally don't listen to myself, I'll chalk these up to wanting to write something in the midst of being in the throes of publisher/designer role until the last bit of laser toner is spilled and the first copy fully assembled.

The writer wants to play again but my brain is in the margins – and so it is and so it goes. Going feral not unlikely.