Is there anything more depressing than the trip home from the airport when you’ve just arrived back from a vacation? Besides the likelihood that I’m jet-lagged—and the fact that my homecomings always seem to coincide with midnight and rainstorms—for me, this leg of a trip marks the beginning of what friends have termed my “post-trip depression” period: two weeks of grouchiness characterized by statements like, “I think I want to move to [insert most recent destination here].”

It’s not that home doesn’t have its draws; of course it’s nice to see family and friends (and push trip photos on them). And I like reclaiming a schedule that includes adequate sleep. But I find it hard to make the jump, usually overnight, from a freewheeling, out-of-pocket, on-the-go week or two to my old routine and responsibilities. So, wallowing in a bout of post-trip depression, I mourn the steady stream of non-routine thrills that unfamiliar accommodations, food, and activities bring. Beyond the return to the familiar, coming home also means trading in 24/7 travel buddies for an apartment empty of people and food but full of laundry and junk mail. Luckily, post-trip depression is ultimately short-lived (and tends to pass soon after the laundry is folded and the refrigerator stocked), so I generally push the feeling to the back of my mind and get on with things until I return to pre-trip levels of contentment.

The next time a bout of post-trip depression sets in, though, I’ll feel a lot better—or, at least, normal. A Google search of the term returns thousands of hits, and it turns out that not only has many a traveler diagnosed himself with the post-trip blues, the phenomenon even warrants a Wikipedia entry. (A search also reveals various forms of the condition, including post-hike depression; post-Vegas depression; post-holiday depression; post-Harry-Potter depression; and, of course, tropical depression.)

Mainly, though, my Internet search led me to travelers sharing experiences and tips on dealing with the post-vacation blues, and they all describe feeling the same sense of loss when forced to give up the freedoms and hyperawareness of globetrotting for the predictability of everyday life. Advice on handling this unfortunate side effect of travel ranges from exercising to using souvenirs you bought while away. But many travelers seem to have reached the same conclusion I did when it comes to a cure: start planning your next adventure. Get a new email chain going with prospective fellow travelers or order a new round of guidebooks from Amazon.com. And remember: coming home is not the end of a trip; it’s the beginning of the next one.

If you have more ideas for curing PTD, I’d love to hear about them; I plan to be immersed in it come mid-July...