Regardless of whether your most recent vaca was an absolute ravishing orgasmic interplay of luxurious deliciousness with doves emanating from your hiney and strains of Prince languishing in the background; a festering pustule of insolence lapping at the criminality of your partner's insouciance while puking up volumes of hitherto ungravitated and unqualified alcoholic concoctions; or a mediocre holiday fraught with the perils of indifference, unmitigated lack of interest, and disrespectful of the romanticism plucking at your sleeve; you will undoubtedly suffer the DT's of vacation withdrawal (citing Cardone et. al.) Returning to work only provokes lingering and vastly inflated reminisces of the occupations of your little trip which plague you like botulism throughout the ensuing 10 to 14 days after your return. Making you long for just one last Mimosa (poco hielos, poco jugos), one last frolic in the bobbing ice blue waters, one last humid evening 'neath the twinkling skies of Whereitwas.
I cried when I got off the plane. I cried during the shuttle home (driven by the most impossibly awful Polish civil engineer). I have cried almost everyday for the last 9. Hopefully with diminishing vigor.
But.. I will NEVER forget the dolphins ( at least until the next ones...)
