Code: FI

It takes a strong stomach to sort a formatting incident at this time of night. In the biz, it’s ‘Code: FI. Do not alert family members. Even if they understand, they really won’t care.’ I did 17th-century Spanish satire at uni, so I can handle weird stuff. I once read a book that was sooooo long (700 pages) that my supervisor asked me what happened at the end. So formatting? Surely I can deal with formatting. But paragraph marks suddenly appeared when my fingers went too fast - in an email! I don't know what the key stroke shortcut was, but something horrible happened. The paragraph marks were in Italic, too. What can I say? I’m special. SO. I reply to my editor who asks: can you do track changes? Yay. Course I can. Pretending the evil paragraph symbols (in Italics) were invisible. Molto sinistro. It Italic, you'll notice. But now, all is now fixed, courtesy of late-night internet search. I’m exhausted. But I can now fix another editorial thingy. Can’t be bad. I’d rather be buying a faux fur frow for daughter in Edinburgh. Lord. Shopping is easy.

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