Has My Holiday Broken Me?

Three weeks ago I returned from what can only be described as a lovely, relaxing, very chilled holiday.

And apparently I am still on it.

Now don't get me wrong, this should be a good thing. We are constantly told that holidays reduce stress, lower cortisol levels, improve wellbeing, make us calmer, happier, healthier human beings.

Well, I think mine may have gone too far.

Because my brain hasn't quite switched back on.

Usually I have a running list of things to rant about. Clients say something funny. Someone does something ridiculous. A beauty trend appears on social media that makes me question humanity. The world provides me with endless material.

But since coming back?

Nothing.

Or at least I think nothing.

People have definitely told me funny stories. I know they have. Some of you have probably provided enough material for three blogs.

Can I remember any of it?

Absolutely not.

My brain seems to have replaced all useful information with vague memories of sunshine, beach, palm tress, blue skies, snorkeling, swimming pools and wondering what cocktail i should have!

The real problem is that I also appear to be ranting less.

I know. It's concerning.

For you lot this is probably wonderful news. You all know how much I enjoy a good rant. It has become something of a personality trait.

But for me?

I'm not sure I like it.

Yes, I'm more chilled.

Yes, I'm less stressed.

Yes, my blood pressure is probably delighted.

But getting annoyed gave me so many blog ideas.

Now I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen thinking:

"What was that thing that annoyed me last month?"

Nothing.

Apparently nothing annoys me anymore.

So now I'm wondering whether there's a direct link between cortisol and creativity.

Does less cortisol equal less brain function?

Has science looked into this?

Could it be that the secret ingredient behind all my blogs was mild irritation?

Should I be deliberately winding myself up every morning just to get some content?

Perhaps I should spend ten minutes reading online comments sections before work.

Maybe that's the answer.

What worries me most is this:

If two weeks away has left me this relaxed three weeks later, does that mean I can never go away for that long again?

Is this what retirement feels like?

Because if it is, I may need a hobby.

Or a minor inconvenience.

When will my slightly grumpy, mildly ratty old lady personality return?

Not completely, obviously. Just enough to function.

Just enough to look at something and think:

"Well that's ridiculous."

At the moment I just seem to shrug and carry on.

It's very unlike me.

One thing I have noticed recently though is how many of you are arriving at the clinic carrying water bottles.

Everywhere I look.

Water bottles.

Huge ones.

Tiny ones.

Metal ones.

Fancy ones with motivational quotes down the side telling you when to drink.

And I'd like to think this is because, after years of me nagging you about hydration, the message has finally got through.

You listened.

You took my advice.

You embraced the importance of drinking water.

Or...

Could it possibly be connected to the fact that we recently experienced the completely normal British phenomenon of a 35-degree heatwave?

A temperature so alarming that half the country immediately bought a fan, three bags of ice and started sleeping with the windows open.

Personally, I prefer my version.

I like to believe I have single-handedly transformed the hydration habits of the local population.

It's certainly not because everyone was melting.

The fact that many of you walked into the clinic looking like you'd completed an ultra-marathon across the Sahara Desert is completely irrelevant.

What I have realised, though, is that maybe being less stressed isn't such a bad thing.

The clinic has been busy.

You have all been lovely.

The sun has been shining.

The water bottles are appearing.

And despite my concerns, life is actually pretty good.

Although if anyone would like to do something mildly irritating over the next week, purely for blog-writing purposes, I'd appreciate it.

Nothing major.

Just enough to get the old brain cells firing again.

Because if this level of relaxation continues much longer, my next blog could simply be:

"Everything seems fine.

The end."