Regardless of whether I'm looking forward to the return to my daily routine or I'm dreading settling back into my ho-hum existence, the exit strategy is always the same for me. Once I've decided it's time to go, I want to go NOW. No lolly-gagging. No dragging it out. All the dirty clothes get shoved into one suitcase, everything else gets packed willy-nilly, and we toss it all haphazardly into the van. Then we all fall asleep and leave Rob to the driving, though I occasionally I stir to ask him if he's still awake.
Within moments of arriving at our heavenly abode, the reality of home sets in again:
- A week's worth of laundry even if you've only been gone for two days
- Sorting out everything that was thrown willy-nilly into any old suitcase
- The stench in the bathroom where someone forgot to flush the toilet
- Dog pee in the tv room; poop in the basement
- The dust and hair bunny family waiting at the front door
- The ensuing allergy attack compliments of the dust bunnies, dog, cat, and guinea pig
- 238 work emails and 5 office messages, 57 personal emails and 2 phone messages (the percentage of which are not junk? Maybe 5%)
- The stack of daily newspapers reminding you of how much bad stuff happened while you were living in fantasy land
- The stack of bills letting you know how much you owe from your trip to fantasy land
- The sand that followed you home and is now pouring out of every suitcase, towel, bathing suit, shoe...