The day has come.
We all knew it was coming.
Nothing we could do to stop it.

It was… inevitable.

No amount of coffee was going to make a difference.

Returning to work after a long break is a lot like waking up in a foreign country where you technically speak the language, but everything feels aggressive and too fast.

Two weeks ago, two weeks seemed promising.
Full of hope.
Possibility.

Now?
Gone in a flash.

It was Monday. In many ways, like any other Monday.
But this one was different.

My eyelids felt heavy—the kind of heavy only a self-inflicted lack of sleep can produce. Not the “I was productive” kind of tired. The I stayed up too late knowing full well this day was coming kind of tired. The kind of tired that laughs at alarms.

No, this one was gonna hurt.

Walking into work felt like moving through knee-deep sand. Every step required intention. Every hallway stretched longer than it did in June. Even the air felt thicker, like it hadn’t been updated since before the break.

I arrived confident, armed with a travel mug that promised “energy” but delivered only disappointment. I sat at my desk and immediately forgot why I was there. The chair felt unfamiliar. The keyboard seemed judgmental. My computer asked for a password, and I stared at it like we were meeting for the first time.

The building smelled familiar—but wrong. Cleaner. Coffee. Copier toner. And a faint sense of doom. Lights flicked on in rooms that hadn’t seen human life in weeks, illuminating desks exactly as they’d been left… with the same papers I absolutely planned to deal with later.

Students arrived with the energy of people who slept, ate breakfast, and have no idea what’s coming. They moved fast. Too fast. Talking. Always talking. Asking questions that begin with “Do we have to…” or “Is this for a grade?” or my personal favorite: “Did I miss anything?”

Yes. You missed everything.

Emails had multiplied. They had children. Some of them said “Just circling back,” which felt rude, because I do not recall being circled in the first place. Calendar alerts popped up like jump scares.

Meetings.

Plural.

So many meetings.

About things I’m pretty sure I used to understand.

I nodded a lot today. Not because I agreed—but because nodding bought me time while my brain slowly reconnected with its former self. I said things like “Absolutely,” “Good question,” and “Let me get back to you,” which is workplace code for I will Google this the moment you leave.

By mid-morning, the caffeine still hadn’t kicked in, my productivity was purely theoretical, and I began to suspect my out-of-office reply was still living its best life without me.

The rest of the day was a blur.

Did it even happen?

Returning to work after a long break isn’t about jumping back in—it’s about remembering how to stand upright, how to project your voice, how to look alert while mentally negotiating with yourself just to make it to lunch.

It’s about easing in.

Like a raccoon emerging cautiously into daylight.

Confused.
Slightly defensive.
Clutching a coffee.
Hoping no one asks anything complicated until at least Tuesday.

At home, I couldn’t shake the fog. How I managed to make dinner, only God knows. But make it I did—and without burning the house down. I ate. I know I ate. My plate was empty. I don’t remember chewing.

The shoes came off. Comfy PJs went on. One more cup of coffee to bring my nerves down to a more appropriate level. I didn’t care what was on TV. It was on. That was enough.

After the first sip of my evening coffee, I could finally let go of today and look toward tomorrow.

But first, I wanted to savor this cup.

Let the warmth settle.

Let the day finally loosen its grip.

Then maybe off to sleep.

Perchance to dream.

I’m in no hurry.

There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing – one post at a time.