Various metaphors for my current state of mind suggest themselves. It's like the birth of one's first child would have been in the bad old days when fathers had to just pace back and forth chain-smoking gift cigars. Or it's like imagining being the Creator & watching current events unfold -- it sure must be tense watching the balls roll towards the holes billions of years after your break shot set up the initial conditions of the cosmos. Happily, I have beer to help me, which wouldn't be appropriate in either of those metaphorical situations.
Sleep well, sweet prince; knock 'em dead. All signals are go.