can't talk, indexing. Also, sick.

Silly me. Obviously hand-cranked runcible guns go "spork! spork! spork! spork!" (Girl Genius is making me happy. As, for that matter, is XKCD. I'm not sure if internet culture was truly aware of itself before XKCD came along. If the internet's series of tubes is the brain, XKCD is its consciousness).

Am at home today, owing to resurgence of gastric bug. I shall spare you the details, but I really didn't get a lot of sleep last night. My personal theory is that the indexing has colonised my gut, thus ensuring that the index actually gets submitted on time. The nausea and gastric rumblings are because my series of tubes doesn't like being rearranged alphabetically into subentries.

Indexindexindex. Deadline is tomorrow. Theory two: this isn't a bug, it's nerves.