Shattered Glass

While I am at work I get a call about glass surrounding the passenger side door of my truck. I run. I see. They stole.

My purse is gone. My life was in that purse. My camera. 3 SD cards with years of pictures/memories. My ipod. Social Security Card. Credit Cards. Atm Card/Debit Card. It sucked. I felt so violated. It is still kinda hard to talk about.

Well to help of the first person I call is the cops, then Jeff, and then my sister. Did she answer? No. I was not surprised. I left a voicemail of me crying and saying what just happened. Did she call back? No. Am I suprised? Yes. For some odd reason I thought maybe hearing me crying and being upset she might put the past were it belongs but she didn’t. She just keeps making it easier for me to move on. Thats sad right? Oh well, I mean what ya gonna do?