About half an hour ago, I decided to call it quits on the "proofing" of my manuscript,which has occupied me for the last 10 days. "Proofing" for me isn't just proofreading, but also rewriting, trimming and addition of extra material (including parts of chapters). So now I am printing out Draft 2 of my novel: 74,668 words, 364 pages double spaced. Just hope and pray that my dad's aging laser printer won't pass out from the exertion before I finish. Yes: I'm killing trees. Yes: I feel terrible about this. No: I can't do anything about it, this time.
The clock is still ticking: I now have just over three hours to finish printing two copies, go get them bound (cheap spiral) and hand in at the uni. Have now been awake 24.5 hours, and drunk 5 cups of coffee. So I'm probably looking like a "properly" bedraggled author. Hope this makes some of you (you know who you are) happy.