Okay. We’ve all experienced it at one time or another–post vacation blues. I thought this time it would wait until I’d been home for a couple of hours. . .like 24. But no, it hit me the moment we walked in the door and I realized there would be no more catering to my every whim. No more meals someone else had cooked to perfection, no more having a bed made by someone else, or not having to pick up my own towels and clothes. No bed turned down at night with my very own chocolate to consume. No more smiling, attentive servers who placed napkins on my lap and made sure my water glass was continually full. (Although, I have to admit my husband does a pretty good try at that venture)
Back to reality. The type of reality that sinks in when you know no one else has done a lick of laundry while you’ve been gone. The cats have probably thrown up somewhere in the house, the sink had dirty dishes left in it that have grown someone’s science experiment and the fish is on it’s last breath. Let alone the fact the garden survived simply because of the blessing of rain almost everyday you were gone (since the children didn’t remember they had promised on a stack of Book of Mormons that they would be there three times and water everything). I was simply amazed that the plants were all still green.
It’s reality. And this is the time you have to get a grip on your emotions before you burst into tears and tell your husband that you want to get back on the plane and go somewhere else. ANYWHERE else beside the drab everyday life you suddenly feel is looking you in the face. You have to remind yourself all the reasons you should be glad to be back. The children (although there were times when they were what sent you packing in the first place–grin), the garden, the story you were working on. . .oh yeah, the story you were working on. The work in progress that you have everyone waiting with great anticipation for the final words to grace the screen (or paper).
I think it’s something like the post-submission blues. The way you feel a little empty when that envelope (or email) has left your hands and now it’s waiting time. You have finally finished the story that you’ve been working on for the past year or 10. . . The characters that have become such a part of your life are now off in someone else’s world. What are you going to do without them? What are you going to do with that empty feeling in your heart?
You make new ones. You go through your files, find old stories you haven’t finished, or find story ideas you’ve written while trying to focus on the now finished submission and work with them. You find yourself involved in a new story, a new bunch of characters. You find happiness and peace with the life the Lord has given you and realize each day, each opportunity, is precious.
I’m just hoping it works, ‘cause this time was harder than last. That condo in Park City is looking better and better. . .