It's PVD!
So I figured out what's wrong with me: I have prolonged post-vacation depression.
And I'm not alone. I googled it, and there must be thousands of us out there, wallowing. Like this gentleman's blog - aren't those monkeys beautiful?
I found some lame article about PVD, and one of the reporter's gems of advice was to look through vacation photos.
UM? No. I do that on an almost daily basis. It doesn't help that we enlarged several photos and hung them throughout the house, and we bought a couple of Mexican rugs that we're using as a rug and wall hanging. AND well, this is really bad, but my cubicle is plastered with at least 18 photos of our trip, and I also put out my coral, sea beans and "Recuerdo de Valladolid" hankerchief I bought from two cute little girls in the plaza of Valladolid.
Perhaps this obsession with all things Tulum will end if Brendan finally gets transferred to Singapore, I'll be in a whole new tropical paradise, right? OR, I keep telling myself, if that doesn't pan out, I can start training to become a yoga teacher and beg for a job here. I'll even buy my own black leotard outfit to match the rest of the staff. Hell, I'll mop the floors with my tongue. I don't care.
AGH. Yes, I live in a fantastic city. But I can't stop fantasizing about warmer locales.
What's wrong with me?