I’m used to doing round trips to places, but circumstances are the verge of making one giant k-turn after which going back to some of those places will be impossible. Simultaneously, a place that was squarely in the “holiday” box will be migrating into the “ordinary, work-a-day” box, and that knocks some formerly-comforting edges off each concept.
Surely, there’s a Judith Viorst poem or essay about this somewhere; I don’t have the patience to look it up at the moment.
The lack of patience might be a side effect of the end of the semester — I don’t have traditional grades due this time around, but I’ve got plenty of papers to evaluate, and I feel a little like some of the freshmen I’ve taught in the past, whose sentences wrapped so tightly in upon themselves that the meaning so clear to them was barely visible to any other reader. There’s every chance I’m not making a great deal of sense to anyone, not even to myself at the moment.
So try again later. Revise, refine, rethink.