I can hear myself now, it’s Monday morning I’m trudging out the door into my car to drive to work to start my 40 hours of work. While I’m scrubbing my toilet, I can hear it. “I need a vacation!” Who hasn’t said this? Who hasn’t wished for this as they were doing some undesirable task? I myself have chanted it like a yoga mantra to make it through.
Then the desired time comes, you start to prepare for this glorious time away from work and chores and the basic humdrum of life. Your stomach is tight with anticipation of the “fun” you are getting ready to have. The “fun” that is elusive in every day life. Your bags are packed, your flight is purchased or the car is gassed whichever form of transportation you are embarking on.
Then the moment arrives! You are out the door and on your journey that’s going to take you to the “fun” that you’ve been planning for over a year that’s just been out of reach, while you’ve been at work or folding laundry.
The first few days are a blast, you hit all of the tourist attractions you’ve always wanted to see. See friends you haven’t seen in years, hug family that you haven’t been able to see… It’s pure bliss. Then the fatigue sets in, you start to droop. And unbelieveably you start missing home, that a few days before you couldn’t wait to get away from. The place with the 4 walls that were suffocating you are now looked at with a longing kin to a fat kid in a cupcake store.
Then the dreaded I have to return to work feeling sets in. Even though you still have a day or even 2 before you have to go, the dread of the impending return sets in. Then you start thinking of all the work that will be piled up and waiting for your return and you can’t help but to think, should I have even taken the vacation? Was it worth it? Yet prior to vacation you would’ve slapped your own Mother to walk out that door.
So I ask you, is vacation our friend? or a foe that sneaks in and wrecks our life?