For me, as, I dare say, for most people, the worst part about a vacation is coming home.
It's not just the obvious, I-was-laying-on-a-sunny-beach-and-now-I'm-back-in-the-gray-coldness, although that certainly is a factor. There is also the fact that I have to get back to all of the normal things. It's not the cooking and straightening that are an issue; I did a fair amount of both on vacation. Same with laundry.
It's the dentist appointments.
And answering the phone.
And doing my volunteer stuff.
And getting back on top of what's going on in the world.
And worrying about whether my kids are learning anything.
And paying the bills.
And on and on.
You know. All of the STUFF.
And the stuff isn't bad in itself. Most of the time I even enjoy the majority of it. But after a week of tuning it all out, it is jarring to turn it all back on.
I'll be back to my normal, unrelaxed self in a couple of days. And in another four years or so I'll get another vacation.