I’ve been back from vacation for four days and I am in a serious funk. Call it the blues, Post-Travel Depression (PTD: I like that one), or a case of the Mondays if you’re a nerd, but all I know is I am home, I am back to work, and I am NOT glowing in a content post-vacation fog. I am plotting, scheming and bargaining a way back to mountains, seaside, ancient ruins, fresh food, donkeys, sunflowers and Rakia. I want to go back to Bulgaria, and  I want to stay there forever.

Except…home is where the money is. There’s a lot more to it than that, of course, but that’s really what it boils down to.

This has happened to me before. Last year I was pretty sure I could quietly abscond to Thailand if I played my cards right, but the comfortable lull of home eventually dulled my protests, plus the kids had a piano recital to practice for so I was obviously overwhelmed by a noble sense of duty.

This funk too, shall pass, if only I could follow my own advice. Here is my best advice to anyone struggling with PTD, and all the ways I am not following it:

Unpack Right Away

Unpacking, doing laundry and storing the luggage helps to quickly normalize the shock of being home. I have left my luggage right by the front door, untouched for four days, as an agonizing reminder that I was somewhere and now I am not. I really ought to get on that, but, I have ennui, so…meh.

Get Busy with Friends and Activities

Yeah. I have lived under a rock for four days. I briefly thanked my amazing neighbour for watching my beloved dog while I was away. I responded to exactly two texts. I dove into a Netflix binge catching up on my show. I may be late to the Scandal party, but I’m obsessed and I couldn’t access it in Bulgaria, so…no apologies there. And as for activities…I had the option of seeing my Pilates guy this week or next, so next week it shall be. Natch.

Edit Your Photos and Get Blogging

Nope, too painful. I stare longingly at my photos most of my work day, but I’m just not ready to sum up all of my amazing experiences into cute anecdotes and how-to guides. That would mean it’s over and what kind of monster would make me confront that distressing reality?!

Wallow

Now I put that in just for me because that’s the kind of advice I can get behind right now. I’m already Netflix binging, so why don’t we add some Haagen-Dazs to the mix and really do things properly ? Besides, Haagen-Dazs is  something they don’t sell in Bulgaria, so this may be the earliest clutches of home taking me in its fold. I’ll let you know where this leads if I resurface as a normal suburban human.

In the meantime, I’m going back to soapy TV.

Do you get the post-vacation blues? How do you shake it? Or should I just move? Just asking.