Dealing With Traveler’s Hangover

The worst day of vacation is not the last day of your trip.

It’s the one after that.

It’s the day that you go back to work after 10 days of carefree sloth. It’s the day that your spouse or roommate goes back to work and leaves you with the luggage to unpack, the laundry to sort, the mail to decode and the bills, the bills.

The Trash, the Phone

It’s the day that the toilet backs up and the plumber does not want to hear about the sun that was splashing on the ancient baths of Rome. It’s the day that you put out the trash and remember that a ringing phone may be for you, although it’s probably a wrong number.

It’s the day you start everything you stopped. It’s the day that there are no groceries in the house and won’t be unless you grit your teeth, drive the car to the market and try to plan a meal.

It’s the first day of real life at home or office, and it can be depressing. How can all these dreary chores be asked of one who, only 24 hours before, was the toast of Madrid? Were these dear hands, now powdered with Ajax, actually holding a tea cup amid merry conversation two days ago at the Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong?

Conflicting roles are disorienting.

One of the sweeter sides of travel is the simplicity that comes from fewer choices: You wear the clothes that are in your suitcase and, generally, they fit and are in good repair. You bluff or share garments if your luggage is waylaid.

You go where your tour guide says, or where your heart leads. You don’t have to make coffee or cook breakfast. You learn. You explore. You play. No wonder coming home is tough.

I don’t say that by planning you can avoid post-holiday blues, but you can make them fade to a tolerable shade of green.

Day of Recovery

Try to set aside at least one recovery day between your return home and your resumption of responsibility. Two days is better. Sleep when you’re sleepy. Meet a friend at a neighborhood cafe. Don’t expect to have a swift mind, a perfect desk and a happy face within minutes of unlatching your door. Bewilderment is the hangover of travel.

Try to finish up projects before you leave on vacation, or get to a comfortable paragraph in an assignment so that it does not haunt you across the miles.

Before departing, make a list of what must be done upon your return, and post it in a prominent place. Then you won’t stare crazily at a calendar and wonder who all those people are who are demanding your time.

Have I always followed these rules?

Don’t make me laugh while I’m yawning.