In one week and two days I will be on vacation. There is something about vacation, something spiritual, something heavenly, something powerful, wonderful, and liberating. People who have vacation scheduled are always a little happier, a little more cheerful, they smile more, are more liable to whistle.
“Hey, Phil, can you compile a list of all known clients who have purchased anything with any value from anybody in the whole world in the last two centuries?”
“Sure can, Bob, have it done before lunch, and then I will buy you lunch. Is pizza ok? Bring your whole family, my treat.”
People who have just returned from vacation are sullen, venomous, and range anywhere from manic depression to homicidal rage. Angry, resentful, and incendiary, they are best avoided.
“Hey, Phil, how was your vacation?”
“Hey, Bob, how about you kiss my a$$!”
For the longest time we had to hire armed security to keep the two groups separated. We opened a new break room, (it cut down on the fire fights in over coffee, and donuts) and designated a “vacation scheduled lavatory,” and a “just returned restroom” with padded fixtures and stalls that will not lock. People are required to wear slip on shoes or surrender their shoelaces before using that facility.
It was a good temporary solution, but then we came up with a great idea. A vacation planner! The minute you return to work you need to start planning for your next vacation. On your first day back, the minute you walk in the door, our grief counselor vacation planner is waiting with brochures of potential vacation spots, filled with glossy photos or beautiful people having an extraordinarily good time doing all sorts of fun things, smiling, laughing and just vacationing the heck out of things.
It is an amazing transformation, crushed and defeated to delighted and overjoyed in minutes. They start filling in dates on calendars, calling loved ones, and singing songs of joy. We have saved a bundle on first aid supplies.