Last day of sabbatical. I guess I was soooo excited I couldn’t sleep. I woke up at five. I tried and tried to go back to sleep. I was even too restless to just lie there, all snuggly in my comforters. I don’t mind going back to work tomorrow. It’s probably time. I’m going to run out of money if I don’t. It’s going to be hard, tho. After a week of vacation, it’s hard enough for me to get back into the swing of things, I don’t know what three weeks off is going to do to me. After vacations, I feel sort of like someone coming out of a dark cave, into the light, for the first time in a long time. Blinking and blurry, rubbing my eyes… disoriented. Sort of like… being born. Yes, coming back from vacation is a lot like birth, leaving the soft, comforting, dark womb for the bright, sterile, chaotic hospital room. Only your head isn’t all squished into a point. Hopefully.
My estimation is that it takes one day for each week you are off, to recover and get back into the swing of things.