So, my average day this week has gone like this: wake up too early fretting about one or more deadlines at work this week, exercise, go to work and work like a dog, come home, make dinner, pack a couple of boxes of books, read a bit about the Wars of the Roses*, sleep. Had a brief break in routine on Tuesday, where in honor of Daniel's birthday, we went out to dinner and went to a bookstore to buy him the new C.J. Cherryh novel.
I honestly expected by this point to be ready to say, "If I ever again contemplate moving house during a major documentation milestone at work again, please shoot me." But actually, it's not too bad. I'm a bit tired, but everything's getting done and there haven't been any disasters. And having a nice big supply of podcasts and audiobooks makes packing a lot more fun than it would be otherwise.
I've also successfully arranged for electricity and water service at the new place. Which puts a real lower bound on how bad things can be. If I can guarantee the ability to power the laptop and make a cup of tea, everything else will follow.
*I sometimes think my life is crazy, but at least I'm not Henry VI.