I may not make it

Still buried under the weight of my own junk (a phrase that would have very different connotations were I male). It started out really neat; setting up my furniture, despite resulting in me smacking my head hard a bunch of times, did make the room seem more put together. I opener boxes that were homogeneous in their contents and easily put into newly arranged positions.

Then came the mess. At a certain point, you have to start opening boxes with less obvious easily housed items. Or you have to open some boxes you weren't really ready to deal with just to get them out of the way. That's when the bare minimum of order you'be managed goes right to shit.

That's where I finally left off last night. It's not ideal, seeing that that is the most depressing place to stop. But there was nothing else for it, really, seeing as it was almost two in the morning. If am being optimistic, I'd say I have finished about 60% of the unpacking. Which sounds great until I think about how that 60% in no way reflects how much is actually set up or put away.

Also, I smacked my head on the ceiling twice this morning because Oscar was knocking shit around and in my early morning haze, I forgot that my lofted bed is too high for me to sit up all the way. Yeah, I'm doing ah-maz-ing today so far. In the course of typing this post alone, I think I've perverted half the entries in my phone's dictionary. So awesome.

Posted via LjBeetle