The narcissism is pretty overwhelming.

I've been complaining for some time that books don't have Ctrl-F. (I noticed that Valerie has the same problem. Great minds.)

So I'm talking to John and he's saying that he was feeling guilty for not doing research for this thing he's writing, but then he realized that he has been doing research, in bed. And I say, "That's not called research," and he can't believe he walked into that one. So he explains that he's reading this book (musicals of the 30s, I think) at bedtime and taking notes.

And then I say - I swear to god - "I wish there was some way you could bookmark the relevant pages for later."

Well, OK, I didn't actually say it. I thought it for a split second and then laughed at myself and told John anyway. And he made fun of me and threatened to put it on his blog and I said no, it's going on mine, and he said he only quotes himself on his blog anyway, and then he said the line I put as my subject and this sentence needs to end now.