The worst part about a vacation is the post-travel recovery time. While it’s a welcome relief to walk in the door of my own home and sleep in my favorite bed, the days following almost always leave me in an emotional funk.

Thank god I’m leaving again soon.

After the Belgian cancelled on me, I contemplated an alternative trip to the Caribbean with Mr. Nice Guy. I told him three places I would like to go, and he added several more to the list, complicating everything further for me, and stressing me to the point where I said, “Never mind.” I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, anyway, but his passiveness turned me off, too. He wanted me to make the decisions.

So, instead, I’m going to Mexico with my best girlfriend, Renee. God bless her. Cancun is not my favorite place in the world, but we found a deal too great to pass up – she is handling our airfare with her frequent flyer miles, and I’m getting the hotel with my points. We have never vacationed together in our 17-year friendship, but we have the same agenda – to lie by the pool or on the beach, soak up some sun, read, gossip, shop, and talk about men.

And still, I miss the Belgian.

He caught me completely off-guard with a text message while I was in Indianapolis, apologizing and telling me he would make it up to me in a wonderful way. He threw in some of his heart-melting poetic love lines, and I forgave him instantly. I haven’t heard from him again since. Très bizarre. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’m relatively content in not knowing. I do believe that one day I will see him again.

In the meantime, I’m trying to function in this post-vacation misery with no adrenalin rushes from binging on food or men. My dating profiles are still off. Consequently, I simply don’t know what to do with myself. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have many things I’d like to do… just no energy to do them.

I feel remorseful that my big day of house-keeping and catching up turned into a lot of television-watching, napping, and internet-surfing, with some light cleaning thrown in. It was the best I could do. The family room is clean. The dishes are done. That’s something.

Tomorrow is another day. I think I’ll start it on the treadmill. That usually turns out a pretty good day for me.

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