About 6 years ago or so, I started my version of a gratitude journal. Every night, when I crawled into bed, I retrieved my notebook from the drawer and listed 3 things from the day I was thankful for.  Sometimes it looked like this:

1)      …that I fit into my skinny jeans

2)      …for getting the promotion at work

3)      …that I was able to get the flight I wanted for my vacation

It is rare that my posts are so heavy but I cannot ignore this one… And just when I thought there was no worse story than my family’s own, there was a deeply shocking discovery inside Massachusetts home this week. A couple was found dead in an apparent murder suicide.

What’s even more tragic, they left a note on the front door for the children. That’s right, THEY LEFT A NOTE ON THE FRONT DOOR OF THEIR HOUSE FOR THEIR CHILDREN TO FIND.

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks planning for, getting ready for and finally, moving all of my belongings out of a storage facility 4 states away.

What advice I can give is that perhaps the most painful part of the moving process is that it forces you to take a good, long hard look at yourself.

For example, I am reminded again that I truly am the most disorganized person on the face of our planet. As I type, I am sitting in a canyon surrounded by walls of Rubbermaid bins and cardboard boxes without a clue of what really resides in them. I’ve brought in some water and a flare so in case you don’t hear from me again…