It smells overwhelmingly of tangerines; the peels are languishing in the trash bin, waiting for housekeeping to collect them in the morning.  Tangerine peels are a much homier scent than that of commercial-grade starch and that other strange neutral smell of a hotel room where countless people have stayed before.  Luckily, there are no mysterious stains on the carpet, dead bodies under the bed (thanks Stephanie), or weeping angels outside of my bedroom window, but as nice as it all is, it's still a hotel room.  I woke up from my short nap thinking that I was still on board the plane I took this morning, if that tells you how discombobulated it all is to me right now.

Tangerines may not be what this week's house smells like but it's surely got to be the inspiration of the bright splashes of orange throughout the interior of this home.  I know for some it's probably obnoxious and a little loud but sometimes it's okay to let your house knock you back on your feet.  And if it ever gets too overwhelming, just soak it all away in that tub.