I might have consumed a few beers this weekend at ChattaCon, but that’s not the kind of hangover I’m talking about.  The return to reality bears a pain and drudgery no amount of hydration or aspirin can combat.  Life moves on after a Con, whether we’re ready for it or not.

I have a mountain of work to do for school and here I am typing a blog entry.  The thought of real work is so painful, though.  Why can’t my work be hobnobbing and talking on panels and browsing dealer rooms?  Well for one, that’s not work.  None of those things pay the bills.  Writing might one day pay some bills, but being at a con isn’t particularly conducive to writing, either.  Reality comes for us all.  Here are some tips for how to survive the painful transition between the con and the real world.

1. Catch up with work before the con starts.  Coming back to a pile of tests that need grading or files that need updating or invoices that need invoicing just makes it that much harder to dive back into work.  Moving forward is easier.  I bet you took the time to get your costume ready or compile a stack of books that need autographing or to fine tune your Halo strategy; apply the same kid of effort to catching up the job-type-job and you’ll be a happy worker Monday morning.  Well, happier.  (No, I did not do this.)
2. Go to bed early Sunday night.  As long as the commute isn’t standing in the way, get thee to a bed.  You’re probably sleep deprived and an extra hour or so will do you wonders.  Getting out of bed may still feel like pushing a rope, but it’ll be easier to get back up to speed.  (No, I didn’t do this, either.)
3. Wake up earlier than usual Monday morning.  That sounds counter-intuitive, but the extra prep time will be useful as you stare at the showerhead and remember the cools pipes and nozzles on those steampunk costumes or you eat your oatmeal and wish you had one of those stale con-suite donuts to go with it.  (I’m 0 for 3.  This may just be a list of things I wish I had done.)
4. Buy a souvenir.  A tee shirt, a book, a costume component, a bauble…something to remind you of the con experience.  It makes the experience concrete and shows that you got something you wanted out.  Otherwise you’re likely to sit and pine over how you wasted the moment and want to go back and try again, like that time you didn’t kiss what’s-her-name.  Seriously, this can help.  Just don’t catch yourself staring into your dragon snow globe like some mesmerizing crystal ball trying to relive the con.  (Ooh, I did this one!  A Fireflly Venn diagram shirt.  Very nerdy.)
5. Suck it up and get back to work.  That is a tip but also a directive to myself, right now.  Cons are great, but like any recreational drug, they should be used with caution.  (This was a metaphor.  Drugs are bad, m’kay.)

Now on to lesson plans.  😦  Wish me luck.