I am writing this in Duke Humfrey's, in which I have spent nearly twelve hours (don't worry, I did squeeze in a 45 minute break for lunch), finishing off a nearly 20,000 word chapter draft for my supervisor.
My fingers feel as if they're about to drop off, and my shoulders are killing me, but I have a wonderful feeling of jubilation at having completed the draft, nevertheless. I am off now to pick up some takeaway (no chance I'm cooking after this!), and sink gratefully into bed. Sir W may have said in his 1600 essay 'Of Sleepe' that
'Fame neuer knew a perpetuall Bedpresser',
but when it's well-deserved (and sometimes when it's not) a bit of bedpressing is a wonderful thing!