Properly "home" in the parish now, with no more scheduled absences before Easter...Big scary Cambridge sermon is behind me, schools are on half term and things ought to feel pretty relaxed.
Instead, I'm chasing my tail in every possible direction.
Some of that, of course, is to do with the whole business of leaving here, of disengaging from some very dear and special people, of realising that there's no way that I will ever finish all those things I'd hoped to leave neatly packaged.
I guess that's a good lesson to learn...in life, the luxury of leaving things tidy isn't often part of the deal. It certainly isn't when we die, - and every experience of leaving, of moving on is in some ways a small preparation for death.
To compound that, there are all the "What if" questions about moving on, and becoming the one with whom the buck stops.
"What if I'm not up to it?"
"What if they wish they had chosen someone else?"
"What if the family find it really hard to settle in their new community?"
I know perfectly well that there's no point in engaging with all that. I spent the interview day back in November being as fully and honestly myself as I ever have been...The churches invited me to come and I had no qualms about accepting - so it seems reasonable to assume that at some level I am supposed to be there, and while I don't believe that God has only one route for each of us, I do believe that he honours intention and is not about to leave me to fend for myself.
I also believe that I have any number of completely wonderful friends whom I can turn to for advice, encouragement and gin when necessary.
But then there is the practical stuff. The 3 quotes from removal firms to be sumbitted to the diocese. The finding a bearable picture to send with a short biography to the diocesan communications officer. The sorting out who might want to come to the Induction, and who should be offered a "close friends and family" ticket. The checking up on visas for USA and Mexico for the Big Event...
And meanwhile, the evil Jack Russel continues to bark, Baby Car has just gone into terminal decline (inevitably just after we had spent £300 to get it through its MOT, on the basis that it was a go-er for another year at least), and HG is beset with trials in her student life.
Oh, and we ought to be thinking about curtains for the vicarage too.
It's a beautiful day - blue sky,sunshine and birdsong .... I think I need to abandon my study and go and gaze for a while.