We do it all the time. We go on vacation, we're away from home for a few days or more, and when we finally tumble back into the home place, we look at ourselves and say, "I'm so glad to be back."
Is this the whole purpose of vacation? Is the unstated goal to actually make you miss your regular digs? Because that's how it works out for me every time.
Don't get me wrong: when I go somewhere for vacation, I go someplace I like. I visit my folks in the DC area, I've made the extreme treks to Minnesota and Massachusetts to visit even more far-flung relations. It may not sound extreme to you, but I can't afford airfare: it's a long drive to Minnesota from Tennessee, two whole days of driving. Before you even get anywhere, you're ready for the trip to be over.
Then you get to see Grandma, and it's worth it.
And then it's two more days driving, to get home again.
Sweetie just suggested a pretty good vacation: three days of staying home. We've done the "staycation" before and been really happy with it, but this would change things just a tad: not three days in a row. A Monday, Wednesday, Friday on the same week. Kids go off to class and we sleep in. We're not gone from work for a big block of time, so there isn't a huge backlog of phone messages to contend with at the end of it. Lord knows I tremble at the thought of taking an entire week away from work; three days is rough enough. Three days, each day separated by a day on, shouldn't be too bad.
What did we do this time? We got to the cabin, soaked in the hot tub, admired the view, and read our books. That's pretty much it. Not a lot of hiking, precious little shopping, just sitting back and relaxing.
I can do that at home. It's cheaper. I think I'll do that next time.