I have finished Harry-The-Illuminated-One's final draft. At least, I hope it's his final draft, as I have reached the end of my tether. It was the piece about his ex-girlfriend's pubic hair that did it, even if it is written in a spiritually uplifting and cheerful manner that is meant to turn people on to The Other Side.
I went round to drop it off yesterday afternoon at a pre-arranged time and he didn't answer the door for ages. When he did he was really wierd; sleepy, sexed up, in touch with Beyond The Veil, I don't know. I dumped the manuscript and legged it up the hill as fast as I could, only mildly hampered by all the gears falling off my bike half way up.
He's checking it for errors and then will drop round to pay me and collect the CD-ROM I'm going to burn for him. I've decided that if he wants any more major edits I am going to refuse, whether or not he witholds payment.
I spent the rest of yesterday afternoon babysitting R's kids, which was fun, although a little alarming, as the youngest one has worked out how to turn the knobs on the gas cooker on and off and it took me a while to realise.