Like when you've spent HOURS sorting out cover for a colleague who is signed off for several months, only to find the days whizzing past, and the work you have done being affected by unknown forces operating in alternate universes without making their presence felt until the final countdown approaches.
In other words, it's time to throw the schedule into the air, scrumple all the post-its with messages and notes and phone numbers and reminders into the bin,
drink a LARGE GLASS of something
and GO TO BED.
Which is what I will do shortly after this delicious looking meal prepared by my ever-loving husband has been consumed.
(photo to be inserted here next time he cooks it - I ate it before I could photograph it)
And if my boss phones with an explanation of the various grenades he threw through the original proposal, he may find I've gone to sleep.