One of the things I was totally unpreapred for as I made the transition from curate to priest-at-least-notionally-in-charge was the high level exhaustion that has been my constant companion since 6th April.
This has nothing to do with not loving the job - I have rarely been happier, and am very sure that I have come home and am exactly where I should be. (thankfully, members of my congregations are kind enough to confirm this independently, which is always reassuring)
Nor is it a reflection on the demands that are being made of me - both my congregations are entirely supportive and caring, and very anxious that I should take the proper time off, rest when I need to,and generally not work myself into the ground.
It may just be a reaction to the quantum leap between even the most focussed and devoted of curacies and the reality of being the place where the buck stops...the popular comparison of leaving school on a Friday afternoon as a 6th former and returning on the Monday morning as the Head Teacher is truly a pretty accurate comparison in my profoundly limited experience...Where is Wonderful Vicar when I need him?!
Be that as it may, I'm pretty wiped out most of the time right now.
Not when I'm with people - then I am fired up, energised and energetic, remembering and radiating exactly what I am for...
No, it's when I get home that the slump happens...so that simple and silly household tasks sit neglected for days, and even after 3 days at 4 mph on the much loved narrowboat Polyphony, I'm still inclined to sleep and sleep and sleep some more.
Not to worry!
My family are pretty tolerant really, and if you are going to need to adopt Inertia as a middle name, I can think of few better places to do so than England's inland waterways.
We all had a lovely time - busy doing nothing!