Re-entry turbulence

My life feels ridiculous. Why do I live in this house? Why do I do my work? Why do I have 8 pairs of shorts? Why do I color my hair? It's as though I've woken up from a dream where you're a pirate, let's say - only to wake up in bed wearing an eye patch and puffy pants. The only thing to do is scream. Okay, so maybe it's not quite that bad, but I do think that ridiculous is the appropriate adjective.

Here's the problem. During our bike trip, each day I woke up and there was nowhere else I wanted to be, no one else I wanted to be with, nothing else I wanted to be doing. Such a rare and precious privilege! The problem is, now that I'm back, I want to be somewhere else, doing something else (thankfully, I still don't want to be with someone other than Mike!) It's rather depressing and grating - especially as it bumps up against the reality of the previous 60 days of pure contentment. The contrast is as jarring as hitting a pothole and flipping over your handlebars onto the pavement. You lay on the ground, aching, and wondering how you got there.