Traveler's Remorse - Have you experienced it?

One of the first questions I hear from friends and family when I arrive home from vacation is, "How was your trip?"  "Great!" I respond automatically.  (They probably don't want details anyway.)

But does "great " describe how I truly feel about the trip?   An insidious emotion that I mentally label as "traveler's remorse" begins to set in even before my suitcase is unpacked. This type of remorse is similar to "buyer's remorse," the feeling that overcomes a person after purchasing an overly expensive item.  What was I thinking, for heaven's sake?

I no longer travel with a steamer trunk the size of the one above, but my unopened suitcase in the bedroom still mocks me after a trip. I know it contains lots and lots of dirty clothes.  Even if the clothes have not been worn on the trip, I feel the need to wash everything. Washing and ironing  several loads of clothes is what I will be doing for several days.  How can I dream about the terraced hills of Tuscany in the laundry room?  Why did I pack so many clothes anyway?  Fewer would have worked just fine.

The trip has interrupted our household routine.  Two weeks worth of mail and newspapers are piled up on the kitchen counter.  First I sort through the mail, searching for any piece that requires immediate attention to ward off disaster, such as an unpaid electric bill. Catalogs go in one stack, advertisements into the trash can, and items to look at later in still another stack.  Old newspapers require decisions as well.  Shall I run through the yellowed papers quickly and glance at the headlines?  I decide to do just that and also carefully save and fold the daily crossword puzzles, which should keep me entertained through the back at home slump.

Although we leave our numerous pets and plants in very good care, I still feel the need to apologize to the flora and fauna of our household for running off and enjoying myself when they are accustomed to my daily solicitous care.  Several neighborhood cats now jump into our yard to bully our cats at the food bowl.  Our inside cat, Bitsy, haughtily refuses to come out of hiding and snubs us for several days after we return. 

Just as we begin to feel comfortable with home life again, the dreaded monthly credit card bill arrives.  What?  That fancy restaurant where I didn't even like the food charged us that much?  Why didn't someone consider the unfavorable exchange rate?  What are these unidentifiable charges?  Neither my husband or I will own up to them.  We pay the charges reluctantly.  As I write an unaccustomedly large check, I question how much fun I really did have on the trip. My Traveler's Remorse is now complete.

Thankfully though wallowing in Traveler's Remorse is a temporary condition.  It begins to lose strength as we view pictures of our trip and relive happy trip highlights.  I trust that every vestige of Traveler's Remorse will be forgotten as soon we begin planning our next great travel adventure.