Vacation memories may fade a bit but some will always be in technicolor. Carnival Breeze.*

My cruise vacation is over, and I have a classic case of post-vacation depression. My cruise was everything I hoped it would be, I had a huge amount of fun and sun, and now I am home and reality hits hard.

The trip back was uneventful although a little more difficult than the trip out; on the trip to Galveston we had a direct flight from Sacramento to Houston on United, but due to timing issues, on the way back we had to travel Houston-San Francisco-Sacramento. Plus roughly 1.5 hour drives each way to the airports. We had some minor travel delays due to air traffic control in San Francisco (typical) but nothing too troublesome.

The most troublesome part of my trip home was that I had somehow sprained my ankle dancing away the evenings on the Carnival Breeze. I attended the line-dancing deck party, and then the fabulous Rock-N-Glow 80s party, and danced twice at Club Liquid.  As an ex-dancer, I’m going to dance on vacation whether or not my RA is effecting body parts. I knew my right knee was bad due to the RA and also an old injury, so I think what happened is that I overly-relied on my left side (as I often do) while dancing all week. The last day of the cruise I woke up to a really swollen and painful left ankle. I didn’t feel myself injure it, but it definitely was sprained.

I was OK self-assisting off the Carnival Breeze at debarkation, but then at the Houston airport (IAH)  I was hobbling like crazy. One of those wonderful guys in the little motorized carts that are all over IAH picked me up and drove me to my gate.  That was great.  At San Francisco airport (SFO) however, you hardly ever see those motorized carts and we landed at the far, far airport gate in the new United wing (66) and had to walk really, really far to Gate 84. By the time I got there the ankle was super painful and super swelled up. The good news is a day of RICE (rest, ice, compression and whatever e is that I can’t remember–oh wait, elevation!)  the ankle feels fine.

Anyway, back to post-vacation depression. The day after a vacation is hard no matter who you are. In my vacation group, over half our group (which included a flight attendant, a fed ex guy, a private eye, and several business people) had to hit the ground running at their jobs on Monday morning. Ugh. After getting home at 8pm on a Sunday.

As a self-employed writer and business owner, I was able to (mostly) take the day off to recover from the trip. Even so, there is the task of unpacking (worse than packing, really) and doing mountains of laundry. And opening mail. And paying bills. And dealing with neurotic pets who stick to you like glue worried you are going to leave again. And for me, taking immune system suppressing drugs for my rheumatoid arthritis that I avoided during the trip (cruise ships and Central American countries are scary germ factories if you have a suppressed immune system like me).

But, yes, the travel is still worth it. I’be got major wanderlust, and I can’t wait to be on the road again!

*color removal on image thanks to the Color Splash app.