Falling Temperatures.

I woke up after a crappy night of sleep - not due to the break in but due to the headache, red wine, and midnight antics of Sadie. Hungover from the wine, headache and Tylenol PM, I was surprised with the anger still coursing through me. The intensity of my anger reminded me of that from the puberty years. Or PMS - not to freak out my male readers. I was still full of the Mother Fucker venom from the night before and that is how I still regarded my intruder.

I dressed and began the chores at hand before I could really think too much about all that I wanted to get done. I changed my locks on the back door which was loose. It had nothing to do with the robbery but I thought I would funnel some of that anger into a worthwhile task. I called all of my financial institutions and the credit bureau to put out a fraud alert. I called the police with follow up information as well as letting them know about new discoveries on things missing or moved. I called my insurance company and filed a report with them. I washed the almost brand new WHITE comforter in the guest room which the thief so rudely planted his dirty hands onto the comforter after shoveling open the window. I threw out the bread on my kitchen counter that wasn't quite shut - just in case this was something he touched or worse tried to bribe my Dags with to keep her occupied. Just better gone.

I walked outside which I hadn't done with the police and certainly hadn't done on red wine in the dark. I noticed my little Rubbermaid shed tool house was open and my little shovel on the ground with paint from the window sill still on it's lip. Good meal, eh? Naturally a few tools from the shed are gone. There is an indentation on the air conditioning compressor that must have made a dandy step ladder. The exterior of the window does not appear to need any repairs. At this point I am appreciative at how little damage to the house there is to repair. I am grateful that I don't feel violated or worried that someone has gone through my things. Just anger and even that is downgrading a bit.

During the course of the day, I found myself trying to figure out what the hell the thief had used to cart away my precious coins. The change was a substantial amount. Picture about $250 in quarters/nickels/dimes and some pennies. I checked for missing purses - all accounted for in the closet. I even thought that perhaps he just grabbed one of the bags in the laundry room from some previous purchase. Finally, I realized the get away bag was my gym bag. I laughed when I realized they had actually taken things out of the bag leaving me my hairbrush, magic hair towel and tampons. He even overlooked a wool change purse that was ready to be dumped into the change pile. They even took the coin wrappers off of the top of the change piles and left those for me.

While I realized a few other items had been moved - like my digital camera. It had been the coins and laptop they focused on in their exodus. It seems the thief preferred the less traceable no need to sell it factor of the coinage over my more valuable objects. I picture the Coin Star receiving my slush funds. I look around the house and I realize exactly how many things were not taken. Things that are valuable to my heart. For this I am truly thankful. My anger begins to die down. It is still there but now I can sit and eat lunch and do a little bit of real estate work.

My friends and neighbors have all been wonderful. Jody who walked down from his house in the thick of things to make sure I was alright. My fabulous next door neighbors held Dagny and loved her while the police were here and then they plowed me with the most delicious red wine. Everything taken can be replaced. I can start a new coin slush fund with the change purse they left me and the containers they left behind. My pets are fine. The house is fine. I am fine. I feel safe and still love my house.

By end of the afternoon, I had clearly leveled off from an anger level of MoFucker to lil'fucker.