It's a Frantic Situation // That Time I Got Burglarized.

This is a long one and there might be some expletives forthcoming because feelings. You've been warned. 

 Summer of 2013 I was apartment hunting. My mom and I went to this open house and saw about four places one Saturday. One of which, I immediately loved. Lots of windows, herringbone hardwood floors, built-in bookshelves separating the bedroom from the living space, clawfoot tub, sun porch, huge closets. The only downside was the small kitchen, which was like a third closet with a refrigerator & stove. I didn't care. I was moving in!

Move-in day

Move-in day

Fast forward to almost a year later, I gave notice that I was moving out. Soon thereafter, the management company starting showing my place to potential renters. They were only "required" to give me 30 minutes notice per my lease, so I got several calls for a week straight from the leasing company like "we'll be over in 30 minutes, HOPE YOU CLEANED UP, GIRL." 

One night I got home and my front door was closed, but unlocked. I checked and nothing was missing or out of place, so I figured the leasing agent failed to lock my door on his way out. Once I figured that out, I called him immediately and got all Martin Payne on his voicemail. #RESPECTMYHOUSE 

Looking back – this was foreshadowing. God is the ultimate screenwriter, I tell ya.

Anyway, the calls stopped shortly thereafter because, I assume, they found a renter for my unit and life went on as per usual. About a month later, I was a week away from moving out. I had already started packing some things and had a few boxes and bags laying around. I was also going to be out of town for a work trip for a few days that week, so it was a late night at the office - I didn't get home until almost 9.

It was a Monday. I got off the el and started my short walk home. I was getting all sentimental like “aw, this is my last week making this trip home. Awww I'm going to miss my neighborhood.” *Hugs air*

I checked my mail and then walked up to the third floor to my door – which was wiiiide open.

"Did I leave the door open this morning?!”

Took another step in and saw my closet light on.

“I never leave that light on.”

Another step and I see a bunch of my things sprawled about all over my bed.

My jewelry box knocked over.

Drawers flung open.

*Realization sets in and snatches my wig*

SOMEBODY BROKE IN MY DAMB HOUSE!!!

I immediately looked over on my desk and YUP, they got me for my MacBook. DAMMIT!

So, I walked back outside, called the police, called my then-fiancé, called my parents and waited. The police came, made sure that no one was still inside, dusted for finger prints, took my statement, talked to some neighbors, gave me a case number and left.

I never heard from them again.

After the police left, I just sat there in the mess, dumb-founded. Looking around taking in all the things that were gone. A bunch of jewelry. A pair of Nikes. A watch. My fiancé was there by then helping to put everything back together. Then my parents came in like a tornado: “NOPE – IMMEDIATELY COLLECT YOUR THINGS. YOU SHAN’T BE STAYING HERE #ONTONIGHT. LET’S GO.”  We had to push my couch up next to the front door just to keep it closed because of all the crowbar damage.

Grrr.

Being robbed is SO VIOLATING. You just want to kick something or punch somebody who has the gall to come in your house, go through all of your things and just TAKE. Just looking at the broken door upset me. 

At the time I thought the leasing company probably showed the place to somebody who wasn’t actually looking for an apartment, but casing places to burglarize. And then they staked out. Learning my routine.  And watching from afar that morning as I went to work like:

Or maybe it was completely random. But for a person to walk up three flights of stairs, pass up five other units and go straight to my door a mere days before I was moving out was suspicious.

Within 24 hours, I was completely moved out. We were able to up the move-in date at my new place, found a moving company and I erratically threw all my stuff in bags and boxes and left without a second thought. All my sentimental feelings were gone. I didn’t trust anybody after that. I was mad at the leasing company. I was mad at all my neighbors who said they didn’t see/hear anything. MAYBE IT WAS ONE OF MY NEIGHBORS.

Me accusing everybody.

Me accusing everybody.

I don’t know that I’ll ever find out who or why. I don't even know when because I was gone for 12 hours that day. THANK GOD I hadn't gone out of town yet! Everything happens for a reason, and this one is still a mystery.

And I know. I am fortunate enough to have not been there when it happened. I am alive and unharmed and loved. Things can be replaced. I am well aware of those blessings.  

I can still be mad, tho.

The fact that I had password-protection for any updates on my laptop brings me small joy. Want to update Microsoft Word? Password Please. Want to install Adobe Acrobat? PASSWORD, THANKS. They're probably stuck with outdated software and that makes me happy. Sort of. #takethat #smallvictories #theyprobablycrackedthatcode #butletmehavemyvictorythanks