That weird week after January 6th in Galicia: When everyone pretends they’re back but Nobody Is
Beautiful beanies from Trisquel Artesanía
There is a very specific energy to the week after January 6th in Galicia. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it lands on – Monday, Tuesday, Thursday – it carries the exact same vibe: a strange, collective limbo where everyone is technically back but not really back. It’s like the whole region is operating on a five-second delay.
This is the week when the Reyes Magos wrapping paper is still in the hallway because no one has had the emotional strength to break down cardboard. When the turrón gets banished to a high shelf but still materialises on the table “por si acaso.” When children return to school half-conscious, dragging their new backpacks like tiny office workers on their first day, arguing over who gets to wear which hoodie because apparently that’s the hill they’re dying on in 2026.
Adults shuffle back into routine like explorers returning from the Arctic, but without the dignity or the thermal layers.
And if you work remotely here, this week is your emotional whiplash. Not the first week of January, please. That week doesn’t count in Galicia. That’s still holidays, lights on, kitchens full, leftover roscón taunting you from the counter. The real test begins the moment the calendar flips past Reyes, when the region attempts a reboot, and everyone moves like they’re wading through honey.
And oh, it shows.
Shops flip their signs to “normal hours,” but the staff are still recalibrating their souls. Pharmacies are technically open, but half the shelves look like they survived a minor revolution. Public offices? The lights are on, but good luck getting someone on the phone before Thursday. Even the cafeterías are in recovery mode. You ask for a café solo, and the barista looks at you with the exact expression of someone thinking, “Contente que non marchei para Canarias.”
Remote workers get caught in the crossfire. At 9:00 a.m., you’re on a Zoom call with people in London or Berlin who have been fully functional since January 2. They show up bright-eyed, spreadsheets open, talking about “Q1 deliverables” as if those words were not a personal attack. Meanwhile, your brain is still somewhere between leftover roscón and Cabalgata confetti, trying to figure out how to type emails without sounding like a Victorian ghost. You’re living in two parallel realities:
Reality 1: The global remote-work universe expects you to be sharp, strategic, and decisive.
Reality 2: Galicia is still curled up under a manta saying “cinco minutiños máis.”
No wonder your nervous system is like, absolutely not.
Simultaneously comes la cuesta de enero, which is not a myth, not a dramatic exaggeration, not a psychological projection – just the logical consequence of December: parties, heating bills, last-minute supermarket trips, gifts “porque es solo un detallito,” and food purchases that could sustain a small village. By January 7 or 8, the financial truth rolls in like a cold draft under the door. Suddenly everyone remembers legumes exist. January becomes the month of lentejas, caldos, y vamos tirando.
For newcomers, especially remote workers who landed here expecting January to be “a fresh start,” this week is a plot twist. You expected motivation; you got cultural jet lag. You expected clarity; you got static. You expected momentum; you walked into a region that has collectively put itself on airplane mode.
But don’t panic – this is the rhythm. Galicia doesn’t snap out of holiday mode overnight. It stretches itself awake slowly, thoughtfully, like a cat deciding if it wants to acknowledge your existence. It inhales, exhales, checks the weather report, and only then begins to function again. And honestly? This is one of Galicia’s superpowers. It protects its people from the brutality of instant productivity culture. It allows the nervous system to return gradually, without self-punishment.
For remote workers, though, this week can feel messy. Meetings drift. Deliverables feel heavier than usual. Your focus slips through your hands like wet sardines. You’re trying to hydrate, establish a sleep schedule, not panic about budgets, and remember what your brain was capable of before December began its demolition.
My advice? Don’t force energy that isn’t there. This is not a sprint week. It’s a landing week. You’re not here to conquer – you’re here to stabilise. Reply to the messages that actually matter. Leave the rest for next week. Clear one corner of your desk and call it a triumph. Accept that your environment is still exhaling and you will not outperform the collective energy of an entire region.
By next week, the shift will be obvious. The city wakes up. Deliverables stop feeling like boulders. Public offices answer the phone on the first or second try. Children stop negotiating hoodie ownership. Supermarkets somehow seem better lit. And you, finally, feel like a functional adult again. But this week? This week is a transition. If it feels heavy, slow, or muddy – congratulations. You’re perfectly aligned with Galicia’s actual operating frequency.
Bibiliography:
European Commission. (2023). Telework in the EU: Developments, trends and policies. Publications Office of the European Union. https://ec.europa.eu/info/publications/telework-eu-developments-trends-and-policies_en
Eurofound. (2022). Living, working and COVID-19: Impact on work patterns across Europe. European Foundation for the Improvement of Living and Working Conditions. https://www.eurofound.europa.eu/publications
INE – Instituto Nacional de Estadística. (2024). Encuesta de presupuestos familiares: Gasto por meses y estacionalidad. https://www.ine.es
OCU – Organización de Consumidores y Usuarios. (2024). Análisis de la cuesta de enero en hogares españoles.https://www.ocu.org/vivienda-y-energia/gastos/noticias/cuota-enero
Eurostat. (2023). Seasonal variations in labour productivity and working time across Europe.https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat
Contributor
Ángela-Jo Touza-Medina, M.A., LL.M., is a global nonprofit and social impact consultant, workforce strategy and DEIB advocate, as well as a recognised immigrant integration facilitator. She is the author of A Single Mother by Choice: A Journal for Solo Moms and founder of LiveGalicia, a platform supporting digital nomads, foreign residents, and returning Galicians as they build lives rooted in community and belonging. With over twenty years of experience guiding organisations and community-driven initiatives, her work sits at the intersection of equity, migration, and organisational resilience.