I got home from work yesterday at about 5:30pm. On the way home, I mentally planned the rest of my evening: watch the rest of Gilmore Girls, shower and change clothes, grab a quick dinner of left-overs, have a game night with David and Katie, then house-sit for the rest of the night. Awesome.
I got to my apartment building, unlocked the breezeway door, and found my apartment door ajar, barely cracked open. When was I here last? I thought. Yesterday, with Matt, right before the benefit concert at church, exactly 23 hours ago. Cautiously, I stepped into my apartment. "Hello?" I half-yelled. I'm notoriously anal about locking my door. I knew that someone else had been inside. And that's when I saw my TV missing. My heart stopped.
My other valuables were left untouched. I looked over to the window, that's in the dining room adjacent to the living room. The vase that was previously on the window sill was lying on the floor. Dialing 9-11 in one hand, I went back outside and saw what I had previously overlooked: the screen on the window had been cut. The pieces were beginning to fit together. Someone had broken into the apartment through the window, unplugged and stolen the TV, which was my Christmas gift this past year, and walked out through my front door.
For the second time in my life, I spoke with a 9-11 operator. Actually, the only other time I called 9-11 happened the first night I moved into this apartment. The reality of the situation began to sink in as I told the 9-11 operator what had happened. "Is there anyone still inside?" I glanced around the apartment, two of the bedroom doors (in the 3-bedroom where I currently live alone for the summer) were closed. "I-I-I don't know." "Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave the residence immediately."
I waited outside for the police. Laura Jo came over just so I wasn't alone. We waited another 2 1/2 hours for the CSI people, who dusted for fingerprints and told me it was probably someone I knew. Riiiiight. Not.
I don't care about the TV. It, like everything else, is replaceable. I am safe/okay, but I don't feel that way. I miss feeling like my apartment was a safe, secure place as long as I kept the entry points locked. Sigh.
Dave Matthews has a song called "Funny the way it is." It basically says that it's funny how one person is going hungry while another's eating out; how someone's house is burning down while I spend a day at the park with my family.
Funny the way it is, I was probably playing Apples to Apples and eating pizza with Matt, Laura Jo and Nick when my apartment got broken into. Or maybe I was at work, earning money to buy nice things, instead of stealing them. Funny the way it is...
Thursday, July 09, 2009
...is what my life consists of-- at least when I'm at work. Yep, that's right, folks. I'm the bumper boat operator at a local park. :)
Ten Things Bumper Boats Taught Me About Life:
10. Batteries need a full night to re-charge, a lot like people need sleep.
9. If you put one foot into the boat, you better follow qiuckly with the other (or you'll end up in the pool).
8. Don't squirt other people with water if you're not willing to be squirted too.
7. Color-coding helps people understand better.
6. Waiting in line makes the end goal that much more enjoyable.
5. All good things must come to an end (sometimes after 3 1/2 minutes!)
4. If you have to jump in the water, fully-clothed, to catch a runaway boat, you'll probably dry off within 30 minutes in the NC heat.
3. People only obey the rules they deem important.
2. Wear sunscreen. Lots and lots of sunscreen.
1. It's okay to act a little wild and enjoy yourself, no matter how old you are.