Beating the Post-Vacation Blues

Meghan Cox Gurdon shares the pains (and joys) of returning home from vacation.

Writing in the Washington Examiner, Meghan Cox Gurdon shares the pains (and joys) of returning home from vacation.

It's nice to go away on vacation, and it's nice to come home again.

At least that's what everyone says. But this soothing platitude doesn't take into account the appalling day that generally follows.

I'm sure you know what I mean. One goes from Transports of Joy to the Slough of Despond in about 15 minutes.

The Transports of Joy aspect is always sweet, perhaps because it is so disarmingly brief. The car pulls into the driveway and you get the happy jolt of returning home and seeing how lush Washington always is, no matter where else you might have been.

Whether you've been gone for a weekend or three months, there's invariably a surge of pleasure as you turn the front-door key. There's the comfy scent of home, and the familiar contours of the entrance way, and the satisfaction of seeing your own belongings. Even the pile of mail holds promise: Maybe there's a check, or even a real letter!

Yes, however stimulating it might have been to explore the larger world, there really is no place like home.

Which, alas, is key to understanding the Slough of Despond part.

There is no place like home, indeed. There is no place like home to harbor reproachful piles of electricity and gas and Verizon bills, school forms, and pleas from charities.

There is no place like home to have scuffed baseboards that you suddenly notice need touching up, or raggedy places in the ceiling that need plastering and only become conspicuous when you return after a sojourn away. There is no place like home to sprout weeds in the walkway, or to have a lawn strewn with wet, pulpy newspapers held together only by their plastic wrapping.

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