The dust has settled, your brain’s usual chemical balance is almost – almost! – restored and you’re readjusting to life on the outside.
Like: oh, right, all of a sudden the whole “tins for breakfast” thing is “problematic behaviour” and you want to have a “talk” about it because you’re “worried about my health”? Pfffft. Real life sucks. I liked it better when we were all talking about how much we loved each other and forming a pile of bodies at the Stone Circle at 5am. But like death, taxes and another secret set from Frank Turner, some things are inevitable. Glastonbury ends. Real life comes back around. And if you’re struggling to get on the horse and ride back into mediocrity, here’s what you can do.
Get back on it
First thing’s first: prepare for next year’s 50th edition of the Pilton party. Now, according to the Glasto website, the first wave of tickets won’t be on sale until autumn. But what you can do is start up a ‘GLASTO 2020’ Whatsapp group, add only the mates that made this year a winner (not the ones who didn’t buy a round the whole weekend and kept the whole campsite awake at 7am, snoring like they were watching Tom Walker) and get yourself excited for the next time around. A year’s not that long. Is it?
Or book a nice bloody holiday
To be honest, Glastonbury tickets aren’t guaranteed, are they, so maybe book a long weekend in Bognor Regis too. You can never be too sure.
Talk nicely to strangers
One of the best things about Glastonbury is that everyone’s so fucking nice to each other all the time. It’s weird, and great. And I’m pretty sure not all of it is chemically induced. It’s just part of the positive atmosphere the Eavises have cultivated at Worthy Farm. So keep it up, chum, and bid good day to your fellow commuters on 7.37 to Leeds.
Brightness helps, apparently
The links between positive mental health and a well-lit environment have been well-established for some time. Luckily it’s still lovely outside, so take a walk, breathe it in and enjoy some nature at the weekend if you can. Otherwise, you can always try out one of those happy lamps that recreates sunlight (they call it ‘light therapy’). No, it’s not quite as good as shaking your bits the Beat Hotel as the dawn light pours over you, but it definitely beats closing the curtains and feeling sorry for yourself, doesn’t it?
In fact, just look after yourself
You know, exercise, eat well – blah blah blah. Let’s face it: you had a good time but you treated your body like a substance depository for five days took an approach to sleep that resembled Amazon’s approach to paying tax: the less the better. So maybe just have a couple of weeks to unknot your insides.
Stand outside the toilet for hours
I suppose the alternative approach would be to pretend you’re still at Glastonbury. You can do this by queueing for the toilet for absolutely ages, even if there’s no-one in front of you. Just stand outside your bathroom, crossing your legs, hopping from leg to the other. In lieu of potentially missing any word class acts while you wait to empty your bladder, you’ll just have to be, like, “Ah, fucking hell, Coronation Street’s on.”
Actually, remember the bad times
Look, Glastonbury is one of the greatest places and things on Earth. But there are some bad bits: the occasional tosser who thinks they’re at the Big Jamboree in the Park or something and shouts inane catchphrases (“Oggy oggy oggy! Oi oi oi!”) at passers-by. And, you know, it’s sort of nice to shower and not sleep on the floor, isn’t it? Call me square but I consider it a blessing not to share a sink with six strangers when I brush my teeth. At one point this weekend some guy puked up in front of me as I was tucking into a Pot Noodle, and his puke looked exactly like my Pot Noodle. So civilisation’s OK sometimes.
If in doubt, make a playlist…
.. of all your favourite artists from Glastonbury 2019. Go back and watch some of the sets you inevitably missed due to the enormity of the site on BBC iPlayer. Glastonbury is the festival that keeps on giving. Open your heart to its generosity.