How do you feel on Sunday evenings? C'mon, be honest.

For about 80% of working people, Sunday evenings usher in an array of mildly negative feelings such as irritability, fatigue, loss of interest in the things you generally enjoy. You may feel as though you have the blahs or the blues -- and you are probably blaming the fact that you need to go to work in the morning.

Not so fast. Needing to work in the morning might be only part of the cause.

While the Sunday slump is more pervasive and more severe among those who dislike their jobs, it is important to know that it is also felt by people who like their work and occurs among people from various income levels and professions.

Do you fall into this category? If so, your Sunday slump is probably caused by the contrast between the freedom you experience over the weekend -- and the lack of control you have during the week.

Everybody's workin' for the weekend

Everybody wants a new romance

Everybody's goin' off the deep end

Everybody needs a second chance

(Lyrics from the 1981 song by Loverboy)

If you’ve never heard the song, or would like to trip down memory lane in red leather pants check out the YouTube video.

I was in Rome this past week for a conference. Alone on the Spanish Steps, waiting to meet friends for dinner, I watched a group of T-shirt clad American study-abroad students struggling with limited Italian, a shared Fodor’s guide, and a map.

Watching the new batch of study abroad students getting comfortable on the marble steps of Rome’s lap, my first surge of emotions was pure jealousy.

Seductive Rome was starting to flirt. Twenty-three short years ago, the Eternal City was flirting with me -- in the exact same place.

Work-related freedom over our time looks very different for each of us: Your child has a fever. (You stay home.) You need to study for an exam. (You go to the library instead of the office.) The surf’s up. (You head for the beach and work in the evening.)

Don’t most of us want a fulfilling career which would also enable us to flex our time, as needed, to attend to family, social, or other life priorities? Of course we do. Well, we think we do.

Full freedom to direct time, as needed, to balance the spheres of one’s life seems as though it should be positive for all. There are caveats, two specifically.

We all need vacations, time off to recharge our mental and physical batteries. I believe we all have a personal meter that tells us when we are over-heating and need to switch off for a while to avoid burnout. Research conducted by Air New Zealand in conjunction with former NASA scientists found that individuals’ post-vacation performance improved nearly 25% compared to performance before vacation.

You really do not need to be a NASA scientist to understand that vacations are good for the body, soul, and career. But, here’s the big question: what is your idea of a “great vacation”?

On a recent trip to Paris, my husband George and I went to visit Jim Morrison’s grave. George is a fan of The Doors. I, quite honestly, did not even know Jim Morrison was buried in Paris. While I would have preferred a Sunday afternoon stroll through Tuileries Gardens or a long lunch on Île Saint-Louis, George’s off-key rendition of “Break on Through (to the Other Side)” sung each morning for the week we were in Paris was more than a subtle hint that he was committed to paying his respects to the deceased rock legend. Heck, it was in the guidebook. On our last day in Paris we took a taxi to the Père Lachaise Cemetery.

Here is something that surprised me: I liked the visit.

The parable of the Mexican fisherman was hanging in my office for years. Do you remember it?

Recently, I decided to take it down because I believe it serves to reinforce a fallacy many people have about work-life balance, suggesting we cannot have both a successful career and life satisfaction. (That's hooey.) I have observed hundreds who have provided ample evidence that you can have both, provided (and this is a big provision) you stay in control of your career.

Before I continue, I should first share The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman:

The Parable of The Mexican Fisherman

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

No. Seriously. This was the line from a party invitation my husband George and I attended about 7 years ago thrown by some dear friends to celebrate a friend’s 40th birthday. It was a great party – a brilliant idea. I can still remember part of the conversation George and I had about our costumes:

George: "What is your life's lost ambition? Is there something you wanted to be that you will never be?"

Me (after a pause): "Tall"

George: "The costume?"

Me: "I’ll wear heels and bring a step stool."

George (concerned): "You’ll probably twist an ankle. Anything else?"

My husband George and I arrived in Hawaii very late on Monday night to start a well-deserved vacation in a place we both love. On Tuesday morning, I received a call that my dear friend Frank passed away -- cancer. He died in the arms of his wife Kylie and two daughters and is no longer in pain. He died having lived a fabulous life.

We visited Frank just before we left and he smiled widely when we told him where we were going. (The last time we vacationed in Hawaii was 2 years ago with him and Kylie.) At the end of our visit, I gave Frank a hug and a kiss, told him I loved him, said “good-bye” and that “I would miss him in Hawaii”. I guess I could have left off “in Hawaii”.

Interactions today are fleeting. Information availability is overwhelming. Our attention is diverted easily as we are inundated with competing demands on our cognitive and emotional resources.

I, for one, want 2010 to be about quality (not quantity). My New Year’s resolution is to practice mindfulness – to live moment and be more present.