The Post-Holiday Wobble

I’ve just got back from a few days in Tenerife with four friends. Lots of laughing, talking, eating and drinking.

Not quite as much sunshine as we’d ordered, but we made the most of it anyway.

It was the kind of long weekend away where time goes a bit soft around the edges. No particular rush to get up in the morning. Lazy breakfasts in the restaurant. Deciding where to sit and what to choose from the all inclusive bar becoming the biggest decision of the day.

The only part that wasn’t particularly relaxing was Tenerife airport, which was an absolute shambles both arriving and leaving. So much so that we’ve collectively vowed never to go there again.

But the trip itself was lovely. The kind of lovely that reminds you what life feels like when there’s nothing much expected of you beyond turning up and enjoying yourself.

Then you get home and your brain remembers there are things to do. Emails, admin, client calls, the final few Funky Diva sponsors to secure for Deck 2, the 3 day trip for the Big Festoon in Manchester next week.

None of it bad or dreadful – just there. Waiting.

And if I’m honest, I’ve got that slightly sluggish “getting back into gear” feeling this morning.

It’s funny really, because my Facebook memories reminded me of something I wrote this time last year after a holiday with Paul.

Back then I said:

“Even though I love my work I still get that first day back after a break feeling.

Not sure why.

It's not like I'm going to need a 4 hour debrief from my 3 deputy managers while they just fill me in on the main shit that's gone on during my week off (true story).

It's not like I'm going to have multiple hundreds of emails (mostly ones I'm cc'd into so there's a blame trail) to read through and decide what's required from me.

It's not like I need to readjust my chair because somebody has fucked about with all the finely tuned settings OH did for me as part of my access to work.

It's not like my personalised hand painted mug will have been "accidentally" broken while I've been away.

Or any of the other crap that gave me a twisted knot in my stomach before going back to work.

And I know once I get my head back into the game, I'll be loving it again. So I need to get my arse into gear and jfdi.”

'd listed all the things that weren’t waiting for me anymore. No petty nonsense. No broken mugs. No toxic atmosphere. All the stuff that used to tie my stomach in knots before I’d even got through the door.

Because back then I was working as a prison education manager in an environment that, if I’m honest, was riddled with misogynistic bullying culture.

It was exhausting. Not just the workload, but also the atmosphere. I was constantly on alert, managing personalities and navigating politics – a world away from my life these days.

And yet, weirdly I feel a slightly heavy feeling on the first day back after a break. But if I reflect on this the context now is completely different.

I’m not returning to a toxic workplace or walking back into a building full of tension and blame.

I’m sitting in my own house, Rubydog snoring, my breakfast smoothie on the table, and a business that I’ve created myself.

One that revolves around creativity, connection, and helping people rediscover who they are. So it raises an interesting question.

Why does the post-holiday wobble still show up?

Obviously, it’s not about not loving the work. I think its just more about the contrast.

When you’re away with friends, life becomes beautifully simple. Wake up. Eat. Talk. Laugh. Repeat.

No decisions about strategy, no admin or to-do lists quietly tapping you on the shoulder.

Your nervous system drops down a gear, and it quite likes it there.

So when you come home and the list of “things to sort out” starts popping back into your head, there’s a moment of resistance.

Not dramatic resistance, just a gentle internal sigh of ‘Ah yes… responsibilities.’

And that’s when the old instinct kicks in. The voice that says, right then, get your arse into gear. Just bloody do it or JFDI if I’m feeling sweary.

but, if I’m honest, that is a voice that was forged in a completely different chapter of my life.

The high-pressure career and “push through no matter what” chapter.

And as you know These days I’m operating slightly differently. Or at least, I’m trying to.

Because one of the things I’ve been quietly building over the last couple of years is what I jokingly refer to as semi-peni work mode.

Not full retirement but not working flat out either, something in between.

Enough work to feel purposeful and energised. And enough space to feel like life is being lived rather than constantly managed.

It’s a slightly delicate balance that’s taking some getting used to. Because when you run your own business there’s always something you could be doing.

Another idea.

Another email.

Another opportunity.

Another project.

The list never actually finishes.

Which means the real skill becomes choosing what matters and what can wait.

This week, for example, there are a few genuinely important things on the list.

The final Funky Diva sponsors for Deck 2 need securing.

Client calls need booking.

Festoon next week needs a bit of preparation.

But beyond that?

A lot of the other tasks floating around my brain fall firmly into the category of “desirable but not essential right now.”

So recognising that feels important.

Because the old version of me would have tried to tackle everything at once full throttle.

Whereas now, the more helpful approach is something much simpler.

Pick three things - do those, then stop, because I’m deliberately creating a different relationship with work.

One where creativity has room to breathe and where joy and productivity are allowed to sit in the same room.

One where a week away laughing with friends doesn’t feel like something I have to pay for with stress afterwards.

And actually, when I look at it through that lens, my post-holiday wobble starts to look a bit different.

It isn’t a sign that something is wrong.

It’s a sign that life felt good while I was away. The kind of good that makes you want to hold onto that feeling when you get home. Which is probably not a bad thing at all.

If anything, it’s a useful reminder. Work is important, Purpose and creating things that make a difference matters. But so do the long lunches, the laughter with friends, the moments where nobody expects anything from you except your company.

So yes, I’ll get my arse into gear today. All the usual business things will tick along.

But I’m easing back in gently. Because the whole point of this next chapter of life was never to recreate the old one in a different outfit.

It was to build something that fits better.

And sometimes that means allowing yourself a day or two where your brain is still half sitting in the sunshine with your friends.

Even if the sunshine in Tenerife wasn’t quite as reliable as promised.