The second bathroom didn't get cleaned today. All the cleaning supplies are sitting on the sink waiting for me, and there's an empty spot on my To Do list that is just begging for a check mark. This would bother me except I'm too tired to drag myself off the couch and go back upstairs to clean.

That, and I have the hiccups, and hiccups are the worst.

When we enter into seasons of change in our life (whether by choice or by chance), there will be pain--most if it will be worse than bee stings--because it is impossible to go through the between without some form of discomfort.

I'm going to explore my future here as a professional broken record. Bear with me.

I've been raiding our local library, and this week enjoyed Kate DiCamillo's Flora & Ulysses. It was a sweet and quirky book, and it got me thinking more about home…and what home means, especially when we're between places and relationships and jobs.

There are two kinds of people in this world: the kind who leave and the kind who get left.

Sometimes life is just very full. And we need to leave a little space around the edges to breathe.

Every place we go, every season of life that we are in, there are good things and bad. Everyone knows this. And everyone knows that sometimes it's the littlest things that make the biggest difference.

There is an accumulation of tastes and scents that make a home. What those tastes and scents are may not be something that you can necessarily predict or choose.

The family we have now, is not the family we left Oklahoma with. This is the nature of change. To state the obvious: it changes you.

It's been one of those days.

Correction. It is one of those days.