Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Yes. Burgled. You might not think it a legit word, but I do. As in "to burgle/burglarize." But past tense. Like on Sunday night. The victim....my car. My sweet, poor little white SUV. Burgled by a vandal of ruthless thieves during a monstrous rainstorm in the middle of the night while sitting in our driveway, in a nice neighborhood. Damages, my iPod. Now I am musicless. Even more sad. And I feel violated. So icky that people were snooping around in my car. Double icky.

Mondays are dreadful in general. If you like them, then we are not friends you and me. But Mondays are even more catastrophic when you go to your car and you find out that it has been ransacked in the middle of the night by a ciggy smoking vulture. Ugh, my car smells SO bad now. Totally icky, like a bar.

So I had to call the police. They arrived in 3 minutes. Taxpayer money hard at work. I was impressed.
Even more impressed by the dreamy looking officer who had to deal with the petty theft I was reporting.
Then they sent the crime scene van to fingerprint. No joke. Yes CSI Miami was happening in our front yard. Awesome. But not awesome enough to deal with the fact that I am now iPodless and have to change all my checking account numbers since I leave checkbooks in my car. Not smart. Learn from me.

Husband so eloquently reminded me that the thieves who burgled me were most likely regretting their theft, and were currently being tortured by the plethora of early nineties dance music on my iPod. Suckers.

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