Post-Vacation Blues

I've just returned from a fandabulous (but altogether too short) vacation to the US Virgin Islands - St. John in particular. I spent four days boating, snorkeling (turns out I still hate snorkeling and tend to panic underwater), jumping off a pirate ship, eating fish and chips, island hopping, drinking rum drinks and basking in the sunshine. In return, I am sunburnt, congested, overtired, and have several hundred unread emails in my various inboxes.

Turtle Bay, St. John, USVI

But I don't mind a single one of those things, not really. A little aloe, a little Sudafed, and a few hours of the delete key, and I'll be good as new. No, what I find hardest about returning to the everyday after vacation is the sheer familiarity of it all. It is actually having to blow-dry your hair and pick out an outfit that doesn't involve flip-flops or a cover-up, and remembering to pack a lunch, and getting in the car and shifting in to autopilot and driving along that familiar, oh-so-familiar route to get to work.

For the first time in a long time, I did not listen to my book in the car today (I'm halfway through Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe on audio). Instead, I let my mind wander, hoping to think of something new or see something different on my standard drive to work. I've always considered my commute to be a chance to squeeze extra reading minutes out of each day, but today, for the first time, I started to wonder if it isn't just a way to keep my brain on autopilot and avoid seeing what's around me. Of course, I quickly remembered that my commute offers very little in the way of interesting sites--or sights.

I'm treating myself to a day on my dad's pier on the Severn River this weekend, book in lap and beer in hand--a little pseudo-vacation to cure my vacation withdrawal symptoms. But I sure as hell won't have this view to keep me company:

Hawksnest Bay, St. John, USVI