So yesterday morning started off pretty much like any other, except when we were leaving the house to head to work/daycare I couldn't find my purse anywhere. I had, though, noticed that my glove box was open and my car door didn't seem to be latched all the way when I hopped in to start it up. Fast forward through another house-search, when I finally got in the car and just said, F^&% it, I have to get to work, I noticed my purse lying behind Thad's truck. Empty, except a million pay stubs, my sunglasses case, and my Special K cereal bar.
Alright, preemptively let me just say, YES, MY DOOR WAS UNLOCKED. Why, because apparently small town habits die hard. I'm normally a door locker, but some days I take for granted the safety of my possessions when parked in front of my own house.
So they got my wallet, my checkbook, $4 cash, and a receipt from my last massage. And a pocket knife. My mp3 player was in the house when this occurred, so I was pretty tickled when I got home and found it sitting on my baker's rack. That was after a full day of feeling violated and keeping my shit together despite wanting to both cry and hit something.
The lesson in all this: Lock your god damn car. No matter where it is. No place is safe. Not home, not work. Or if you leave the car unlocked, don't leave your god damn purse in the car.
I got the message. Lesson learned. Hopefully if they make me get a new driver's license I will either get a super hot picture, or I will look like Billy Corgan before his shaved head phase. Please, after this harsh lesson, please Lord don't teach me the Smashing Pumpkins lesson.
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