There is, first of all, the hour. In the holiday house, 5 a.m. is firmly in the “night” category. Now it is unequivocally morning.

Next are the clothes. I can’t pull on a pair of black stretch pants and an old sweatshirt. There are skirts and boots to consider, makeup to wear.

And now, in a few minutes, comes the commute. It, above all, separates days off from days “on.” I often think how different my life would be if I jumped in a car and drove 15 minutes to an office, parked and went in. Instead, I drive, park, walk, ride Metro, switch to another Metro line, ride two stops and then walk some more. Total time: one hour 10 minutes on the way in and one hour 30 on the way home.

The commute has a life of its own. It is a force to be reckoned with. Especially on re-entry day.