Stolen

Sometimes I think, “I don’t have anything to say in tomorrow’s blog post.” And then the universe provides. Yesterday morning I woke up before my alarm, feeling great. I sat and read with my morning coffee, knowing that it was going to be a marathon 14 hour day. I left the house with plenty of time to get to work on time. When I got out to my driveway, something looked strange – there was stuff all over my passenger seat, and the glove box was empty. I thought I must have been tireder than I’d thought when I got home Tuesday night. But then I got in the car and saw this:

Yep, someone broke into my 11 year old car and stole my radio. You may recall that my radio died last summer, and I bought a new one during the “Ellison Has MRSA and Might Be Dying” fiasco which involved lots of driving back and forth to Boston. I realized that I had no issues driving a 10 year old car, but I had serious issues driving a car with no radio – funny what you learn about yourself. Now, I’m in the same spot, and my cup holders don’t really work either. I’ve been hoping to make it to the end of the calendar year with this car and consider something new (to me) for 2012, but maybe this is the final straw for my beloved Lolatron. I don’t even have time to think until this weekend, so we’ll see.

I have intentionally been leaving my door unlocked because my neighbors’ car windows were smashed when their radios were stolen, and that decision paid off – no necessary repairs there. And while this is really annoying and potentially expensive, Ellison doesn’t have MRSA and I don’t have shingles and we’re together, safe, and healthy. So that’s worth a lot in my book.

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