To borrow a phrase from a recent comment:

dear Holy Jesus. The next two weeks are going to be a living hell, without even the prospect of getting shitfaced at any point to break them up. My gran is in hospital suffering from advanced decrepitude, Davis' wedding gig is looming large in the foreground and we have to move flat in a sort of extended military operation lasting an entire week.

<sigh>

I liked it better when my life was a yawning void of crippling emptiness, I can tell you.