Buried in my own crap

The unpacking isn't going so well. I'm buried and can't dig my way out. It's making me super irritable too, I'm constantly snapping at Sam. (Like it's his fault.) Even when I get a suitcase unpacked I shipped myself a boatload of boxes so then I have those to unpack too. I can't keep up with it all. Plus? Two and a half months of mail? It's a lot. The counter is covered and I can feel Yago cringing at the thought of the kitchen counter covered in paper.

I got my hair trimmed yesterday and Petra cut the "style" out of it. Now it's just a really short bob instead of being angled. I'm disappointed but I'll let it grow a little and try again. As soon as I sat down she looked at me and said, "You lost a lot of hair, didn't you? I can see it." Um, yeah. That's great. I'm going to look like Mary the secretary. (Only Mickity knows who I'm talking about.)

Time to go dig some more. See what I can find in my mountains of crap.