You know that period when vacation is impending? You know it’s looming just around the corner. But you just can’t seem to get to the corner.   Every work deadline blows up. The “forty-hour a week with a real lunch every day” job suddenly turns into the office nightmare wellness blogs love to attack:

I was at my desk at ten o’clock at night, feeling too full of cheesy fries, when I burst into tears. I decided then to put on my Lululemon pants, eat some kale and meditate my way into a new life.

Joking aside, right before vacation is when you find yourself speaking forcefully in industry acronyms from eight a.m. until eight p.m. For once when you turn away from the family dinner to “check work email,” you actually are doing that – and not scouring for a quick update on the Gwen Stefani pregnancy rumors.

You long for the previous week when you were killing time in the office pantry hearing all about your colleague’s upcoming wedding bouquet, or her dog’s latest vet visit. Why didn’t someone tighten your project deadlines then, so you could have scurried off, escaping the age-old calla lilies v. baby rose debate?

Because the time right before your vacation is when everything else also goes bust. Like your air conditioner, which worked perfectly well until two days before your departure. This means you actually have enough time to get it fixed – even thought if it had just waited until you left, you could have relegated it to an Act of God, and carried on with your daiquiri. But now you must mentally set aside a few thousand dollars of your fun vacation budget, and add a painful phone call to your to-do list, filled with technical jargon of its own – none of which you understand.

And somehow, as a packing procrastination strategy, you decided to open your mail. You find out that you have been the victim of fraud, as Anthony Loran decided to get himself a credit card from your account.  Phone call to “Heather” at a call center in the Philippines anyone?   And your credit card company gives you detailed instructions on how to insist an apathetic police department register your violation as an official crime.  Surely, it’ll be up there with murders. That vacation budget is getting even smaller as you realize you’ll be credit card-less effective immediately.

By the time you get to the airport in the early hours of the morning, you are just grateful to be there. You smile at the TSA staff, and try to crack jokes with the coffee stall barista. How wonderful you didn’t murder your spouse when you disagreed at one in the morning on the luggage to be brought. You think maybe you have finally mastered gratitude and mindfulness. But really, it’s just your two hours of sleep showing.  And that is when you know you’ve turned the corner.  Happy vacay.