Because positive, post-vacation bliss will likely be shorter-lived than your tan.
1. That first moment you arrive home. Yeah, you missed your bed and all, but after a long period away, don’t pretend like you don’t turn on every light and check each room for monsters. I’m always somewhat convinced an army of roaches moved in while I was gone.
2. Nobody comments on your tan. If a really tan tree falls over in the forest but nobody tells it how tan it is, or how good it looks, did the vacation ever really happen? Do coworkers really not notice when you leave the office a member of the ghost-race and return darker-skinned, healthy and revitalized? People be jealous. I’m never bringing back area-relevant candies to share in the break room again.
3. Nobody comments on your Facebook album. There’s something demoralizing about spending three hours poring over 400 pictures of the same beach sunset, deciding which to include, only to earn approximately two likes.
4. “Vacation You” is gone. Vacation You rules. Vacation You doesn’t give a shit about calories, spending money, running late, or things going wrong. Vacation You is easy going, laid back and up for anything. Vacation You is now, however, the logistical equivalent of an actual unicorn.
5. Return to regularly scheduled eating. What do you mean I can no longer eat, without guilt — BECAUSE I’M ON VACAY Y’ALL — an omelet, yogurt parfait, waffle, pastries and bacon for breakfast, down a bag of pretzels as a snack an hour later, inhale a burger, fries, coleslaw and nachos for lunch and then enjoy a six course dinner peppered with hourly drinks in between? Vacations are like birthdays. Calories don’t exist. A vacation to celebrate your birthday? Now you’re really winning at life.
6. You’re fucking starving. See above. Stomach is now constantly growling and eating a salad for lunch reduces you to near tears. Also, it’s only 12:16 p.m. and there are way too many hours left to endure before being allowed to consume a mere three ounces of chicken breast for dinner. This is the worst first world problem of all first world problems.
7. You have to do work. And you have to talk about work. Like, immediately. The silver lining here is that the “I’m catching up” excuse yields at least a few hours of transition time. Ease back in with Facebook and gchat before someone inevitably corners you into an intense conversation about the all-hands-on-deck crisis that happened while you were gone, even though we all know it was not, in reality, an actual crisis.
8. People are the worst. If you live in a city like New York, chances are your new, blissful post-vacation positive attitude will be lost the moment you step outside. Expect to get elbowed in the ribs, pushed on the sidewalk, leered at in the lunch line or traumatized in any way imaginable on the subway. It was nice while it lasted.
9. You have to go back to the gym. Remember before vacation when you could run five miles like a joyful Kenyan and bragged about “runner’s high” being a real thing? Now you puke after a half mile and shoot daggers at your gym class instructor when he exuberantly exclaims it’s time for planks. Maybe #5 wasn’t entirely genius after all.
10. Nobody wants to hear about your trip. People who ask “How was your trip?” usually don’t really care about the answer. They think they are being polite until your response extends beyond “good!” and their eyes glaze over. I’m sure that beachside massage, mountain village trek, or two week Italian wine tasting tour were all incredibly epic, but again, people be jealous (#2) and people are the worst (#8).
11. You have no where good to check-in. Ok, so maybe people are bitter and jealous because you shoved it in their cubicle-ridden, fluorescent-lit faces every time you checked in on Facebook from that exotic beach, posted shots of your sunset booze cruise, or sent hourly status updates from far-flung iconic locales. Now where do you have to go? NOWHERE.
12. Which serves to remind that regular life is usually boring. Sure, you sat on top of a waterfall and used that opportunity to commune with your true self on how you’re going to be more positive, spiritual and nurturing. Or some bullshit. You can’t really remember. Is it 5 o’clock yet?
13. The calendar is your enemy. Oh good, an actual reminder that there is nothing exciting planned for the next several weeks and months. Lick your wounds by looking at that Facebook album over and over again, trying to ignore the fact that you were probably one of the two people who clicked “like” (ugh, don’t be that guy).