“I didn’t know you were back.”
My mom is always a little hurt when she finds out I’ve been back a few days from a trip and haven’t told her.
But back isn’t really “back.”
Sometimes there’s jet lag.
Sometimes there’s a post-vacation “I don’t want to deal with the reality that my life can’t all be vacation” phase.
And sometimes, another layer: If I went somewhere to speak or teach, like I did in Hawaii last week, there’s a nervousness hangover.
The “I did it” feeling is great, but it comes with a side of “Please leave me alone, I did something scary and now I need to lie in front of a Bravo show with dead eyes and a tub of wasabi peas.”
Plus, on the front end, there’s all the buildup. The weeks of lesson prepping, or at least freaking out about prepping (because, let’s be real, I only touch my powerpoint slides in the final week), the eyelash touchup, the haircut, the pedicure, the packing, the thinking about packing. And crap, getting my favorite no-wrinkle top to the dry cleaner.
That’s why I lie.
I try not to lie to people.
If you ask me directly what day I leave and when I get back, I’ll tell you the real dates.
But I always lie to my calendar.
On either side of any big, uncomfortable commitment, I add at least a day. Sometimes several.
If the trip or event is Friday to Friday, I may block out Thursday to Monday on the calendar.
I block the actual days I’ll be away — so I know when my flights are, handy info — and add several days on either side marked “BUFFER.”
This time, I blocked out an extra large buffer, because I had a big podcast interview right after the trip. This podcast sticks to a rigid daily format, and I had to have prepared answers. That meant freaking out about prepping, pretending to myself that I’d prep on the flight home, actual prepping, and then an extra nervousness hangover after the interview was over.
I’m still feeling the “not sure how smart I sounded” adrenaline tingle.
Haven’t kicked my jet lag yet, either. Maui, your time difference is nuts.
You know that diagram that shows how all the magic happens outside of your comfort zone? Here’s what it should look like:
Oh, in case you’re wondering:
Yes, I crushed it teaching (I think). It was a great group. They loved my content and they laughed, which is all I want from life.
That all goes in the little sliver of magic outside the “hit by a truck” circle.
Do you have to build in a buffer before and after just about anything outside your normal routine?
How much do you HATE leaving your comfort zone? Riiiiight?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.