annual manual life-sucking force

has taken over. We are in that phase, that final phase, of trying to push out section after section in between signing off on pagee after page of the regular paper. We are all slap happy, taking four times as long as we should to read a sentence. My eyes are gritty from nerve-induced insomnia. And thus, I say, I shall return when the synapsis are firing a bit more steadily.