Usually when I take some time off work or go away for the weekend, I'm a little anxious to get back and resume my normal life.  It's not that I'm anxious during my entire time off; it's usually just the last day or so.  I know my break is about to end, so I just want to get back into things.  Last week's vacation in a tropical paradise was different.  I was dreading going back to work on Monday.  It could be because it was a pretty long break.  It could be because I've been a little busy at work lately and my grad class is slightly stressful.  It could be because it was a magical tropical paradise filled with sun, mountains, oceans, and food.  Whatever the reason, I wasn't looking forward to resuming my normal life.  And it made me think of another time when I had the same feeling.  During college, I think my brain never really shut down, so breaks were more like hiccups.  The time I'm thinking of was when I was around 10 or 11, and it was right at the end of a Christmas break.  It had been a particularly good Christmas break for whatever reason, so I was devastated to think that it was over and I'd have to go back to the hellish prison so simply referred to as "school".  I cried about it and my sister tried to assure me that everything would be ok.  I guess everything was ok because otherwise I'd still be in 5th grade.  That's what I felt like on Sunday night and Monday morning. #psychology