The Burglar

A burglar broke into my house.  A real live burglar. 

Seems the crook was hunting cash and precious jewels.  I am sorry Mr. Burglar, but I live in 2011 and don’t keep cash.   Maybe you should’ve visited someone still living in 1985 when cash was all the rave.  And if you were smart and read my blog you would have known that I spend every penny I earn on make-up and Anthro dresses and not fine jewelry.  Woo ha ha ha!

Below, my beloved readers, I document for you Mr. Burglar’s journey through my house… 

Entry:  Clamoring through my bathroom window:

First stop:  My bedroom.  Specifically, my jewelry box.  Some people fill their jewelry boxes with gems, gold lockets, rare coins.  In mine, I stash:

  1. My gym membership card
  2. Perfume
  3. A small travel jewelry box that held one pair of seven dollar earrings that I actually forgot I owned until I found them on the floor (thrown there by the crook)
  4. Two keys that unlock locks.  I do not know which locks.  I do not know why I keep the keys.
  5. Pouches I save that once contained Anthro gift cards.  I do know why I keep these; it’s for the happy memories they flood my brain with whenever I open the jewelry box for a squirt of perfume and see them lying there. 

Next, the crook made his way into my office.  Before leaving town, I cleaned my envelope stuffing station quite nicely in plans to deliver it all back to the Bosses.  I had even stacked the Bosses business cards into two little blocks in order to say, “I’ve been taking such nice care of your products all these years.”

If the hoodlum had been reading along here, he’d have known that I never held a position important enough to warrant keeping any client records at my house.  Instead, he wasted his time rummaging through my supply closet and destroying my nice business card stacks:

Next stop:  Office Closet #2.  While Office Closet #1 contains work related items, Office Closet #2 contains my personal office supplies.  The snoop pilfered through this closet and thought he’d struck gold once he eyed a large bottom drawer.  What could it contain?  Rubies? Sapphires? Gold?  Oh poor Mr. Burglar, I bet you were disappointed upon discovering I store my special jumbo set of magic markers here. 

Really?  Could he not have closed it back?

Thankfully upon returning home, I had a friend come into the house with me.  We searched under every bed, and I even sent him armed with a flashlight into my attic to make sure the psycho wasn’t waiting up there (I saw it on an episode of “I Survived”).  I am proud to say my home is now crack-head free and I have booby-trapped my backyard to discourage further uninvited guests.

I have yet to count all remaining business cards to see if any are missing.  If I find that even one is gone, I will put James and Chad on alert that a crook has possession of their contact info and warn them to lookout for any unusual loan requests in which the borrower (burglar) writes my name in the referred by section in an attempt at wit.

If you are a non-burglar and would like to get pre-approved for a home loan from the ole Bosses, please leave the referred by section of the loan application blank.  Otherwise, I’ll suspect you of burglary, and crawl under the table at closing to examine your shoe prints to compare them to the ones outside my bathroom window. 

Off to count cards…

One thought on “The Burglar

  1. The crazed nuts didnt know you too well or they never would have visited you in such a way. I hope they catch athletes foot from your bathroom floor.

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