Et In Vacationa Ego

Encumbered by poorly packed suitcases and an alarming mini-bar bill, miserably checking out from my hotel as new guests arrive, I always feel like Nicolas Poussin's spiteful, revenant skull startling the Arcadian shepherds with his gloomy warning: "Remember me as you pass by, as you are now so once was I, and as I am now so you must be, so prepare for death and follow me."
You, too, my handing back of room keys reminds these new vacationers, will also soon be returning home before you are really ready to; ferried over the package-holiday Styx and back to the daily grind by an airport taxi with two souvenir coasters covering your eyes to pay the travel agent. Memento mori: a bottle of Unicum, two tins of paprika and an Austro-Hungarian hat.