The post-vacation survival guide

You had a whirlwind romance, and it was glorious. It started with a sun-drenched walk along a sandy beach and a frozen margarita from a swim-up bar. Your skin glistened, and the breeze smelled like citrus and pure freedom. You felt light, present, and unstoppable, remembering what it was like to laugh, breathe, and to finish a sentence without checking your email. 

Email? What’s email? You’re ready to become a full-time luddite with great skin.

That radiant, unplugged, full-of-life version of you was your Out-Of-Office Self. And you fell hard. Head over heels. Ready to propose on the second date and elope on the third.  

But now the honeymoon is quite literally over, and you’re staring at a suitcase that despite incredible advances in technology still won’t unpack itself. Your inbox has needs that you have no desire to meet. Your manager wants “just a quick sync.” And the Slack and Teams pings seem to have unionized. God help us all. 

Now you’re sitting at your desk with post-vacation whiplash, wondering how to reconnect with Professional You without ghosting your Out-of-Office Self . . . or setting your laptop on fire.

Welcome to the post-vacation breakup. Here’s how to survive it.

Step 1: Honor the love you shared

Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. You shouldn’t sprint into your first day back like you didn’t just spend a full week napping at noon, sipping something cold under an umbrella, and avoiding adult responsibilities.

Your nervous system has a transition period, not a toggle switch, and it’s time to adjust.

What this looks like in practice:

Block off the first half of your first day back. Seriously. Decline meetings. Mute notifications. Give yourself 90 minutes of soft reentry to check your calendar, read your emails (then reread them), sip water like it’s a coping mechanism, and even stare into the void. Your brain needs to stretch before the sprint.

Step 2: The first few meetings are like awkward post-breakup coffees

You’re not the same person who clocked out the other week to catch a plane. You tasted freedom, and it was delicious. Five-star Michelin level. And now? You’re back on Zoom, nodding politely while someone goes way too deep on a conversation that absolutely could’ve been an email.

Deep breaths. It’s okay to feel weird, annoyed, and wondering if you should have just bought a coffee shop and moved to that tiny coastal town. 

What this looks like in practice:

This one is going to be tough, but resist the urge to swoop in and take charge. Don’t offer to lead the meeting. And for the love of all that is holy, do not start volunteering for projects.

Yes, you’re good at jumping in and want to be helpful. But the impulse to “come in hot” is just a reflex to try to reassert control, show you still matter, and that you’re back. You are good at your job, and a week or two away doesn’t change that. 

Channel your vacation yogi and take a breath. Then ask questions like, “Can you catch me up on where this stands?” and let others do the talking. Stay curious and quiet. This isn’t about avoiding responsibility, it’s about not steamrolling the lightness and clarity you’ve newly acquired. 

Step 3: Be emotionally honest (without sounding like a vacation martyr)

No one loves the coworker who returns from paradise and starts every sentence with “In Mexico . . .” But pretending your soul didn’t just taste oxygen? That’s not it either.

What this looks like in practice:

Say: “I’m back and catching up, trying to give myself some space so I can be useful by Thursday. Ping me if something’s urgent.” 

You don’t owe anyone an Oscar-worthy performance, just a human update. Because you are, after all, human. Shocking. 

Step 4: Don’t go back to your situationship

Time for some real talk . . . the version of work you left behind? It may not be the one worth recommitting to.

Vacation doesn’t just offer rest. It provides much needed clarity. The late-night emails, overscheduled Tuesdays, and projects that keep getting “reprioritized” might not be your forever match. And that’s totally okay.

What this looks like in practice:

Sit down (coffee optional, but recommended) and ruthlessly audit your calendar. That standing 10 a.m. meeting? Maybe it can be async work. Truly reclaim your lunch break. And no, eating a salad while skimming a presentation doesn’t count. 

Let one bad habit die so something better can live.

Step 5: Let your OOO self leave a toothbrush (and maybe some pajamas) 

You don’t have to choose between Vacation You and Work You. The goal shouldn’t be a breakup but integration.

What this looks like in practice:

Keep one habit from vacation alive and thriving. Ten minutes of quiet coffee before inbox doomscrolling. Midday walks, even if it’s just pacing around your kitchen. A weekly “Vortex of Creativity” block on your calendar for deep work. Your OOO self had some (maybe not all!) good instincts, let one or two stick around.

This isn’t a breakup. It’s a reunion

You don’t have to erase Vacation You to function at work. You just have to reintroduce them to each other. Vacation Self, meet Work Self. Hey, we both like coffee. That seems like something we can build a relationship from . . .

Let your team meet the slightly softer, more present version of you. Let your calendar witness you . . . rest. Radical, I know.

You’re still smart. Still capable. Still valuable. Even if you’re emotionally unavailable for the first 48 hours back.