My definition of jet lag is: That period of time where your body shows up first and your mind arrives some time later. It isn’t necessarily about airplanes.
Earl and I returned home yesterday afternoon from our recent road trip, and I unpacked right away. Then I settled in to read the Sunday newspaper and enjoy the last few moments of our “vacation”. I stared out the living room window and relished the waning evening light. I resisted checking my email and refused to practice piano even though there was time. I know better than to rush into my regular regimen.
Some people can return from vacation in the middle of the night, wanting to eke out the last few moments of pleasure, and show up for work the next morning bright eyed with little sleep. I am not one of them. I need a transition period, one where my body and my mind give up the relaxing atmosphere of hotels and restaurants and not having to make one’s bed. I need time to shift from being taken care of to taking care of myself.
It’s not that I’m incapable. Rather, it’s that I leave everything behind when I vacation; and picking up the reins of my regular life takes some doing. Don’t get me wrong, I love my regular life just as much as I love vacationing; but there needs to be a bridge between them, a bridge I slowly traverse over the course of a day or two. Then, once my jet lag disappears, I’m ready for anything.
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