There was a time when he could see everything. Reality was an infinite web of choices made and lost and the All Father could follow each thread to its end. The events of the day are nothing new to him and while he feels like himself (the old self not this modern work of folklore) for a moment when all is said and he finds the entire process to be draining, cumbersome in a way he hadn't entirely expected.
Time for a nap.
Time for a nap.