For someone with a fair amount of experience with weapons and blades, I seem to be remarkably careless, clumbsy, or both. I have cuts on my hands from accidents involving taping boxes, and I have cuts on my legs from knocking sharps off of tables. I *did* manage to avoid having my bare feet impaled by falling box-cutters, but not by a comfortable margin.
I despair at the sheer amount stuff that I have.
It's getting to the stage where there are so many boxes in the house that there is nowhere to put new boxes, and yet there is more to be packed. It's like that saying, "I have no mouth, and yet I must scream".
I have no boxes, and yet I must pack.
Also, I have a meeting with both my supervisors today. I probably can't deal with that, and I may go postal and kill EVERYONE in the building. As they say, "let God sort 'em out". Listen for the screams at about 2pm.