A Thief is Among Us

Today I learned that someone stole packages from my front door. New hiking boots for me and a much coveted dress for my roommate.  The only other time that I have every been wronged in the form of petty theft was when I was in the 5th grade and took an after school pottery class. There was another girl name Lauren in the class so I was riddled with as much anxiety a 10-year-old could be riddled with in regards to our pieces getting mixed up. I’d write in huge letters “LAUREN C. 5th GRADE” and yet Lauren from the 6th grade would always take my coil bowls by accident. Thankfully, my kind, loving, art teacher would right the wrong and I’d go home with the brown little dung bowl I made my mother.

HOWEVER, in the case of the hiking boot/dress dilemma, the wrongs have not been righted, YET.

Despite the kooky things I post online, I’m very mild mannered in person. I do get riled up and it all comes pouring out with lots of hand gestures and weird noises, but normally I’m shy and quiet due to being an habitual over-observer. I’m sure when I’m doing this the other people in the room imagine tumble weeds blowing around in the desert landscape of my mind but c’est faux, you bimbo.  I also do not get angered easily. I’ve somehow gotten to the point in my life (thankfully) that I understand the situations that would make me angry in the past simply do not matter. The last time I was truly angry was almost four years ago, if that gives you any indication of my calmness. I may act fired up, concerned, or perturbed, but it’s never been angry.With that being said,  hell hath no fury like a nice-former-pottery-making-calm-girl scorned.


On Friday before noon, our packages were delivered to our building. Our LOVELY neighbor tends to bring our packages in so they aren’t sitting out in the open. She did so around 5pm. That means they were locked inside our building. I didn’t get home until midnight. Hm, no packages. WEIRD. I thought maybe she took them to her house figuring we left for a weekend (again, she’s a DOLL). The next morning came but we were out and about and again, came home to no packages. ALRIGHT FINE.

Sunday morning, we get up and we hear our lovely doll neighbor outside. I rip our door off its hinges to inquire about the packages. Sure enough, she confirms she left them there. I don’t remember anything in between us making and posting signs on every single door in the building but I do recall at one point chasing one of my neighbors into their apartment interrogating them and also stopping to say hello to their nice kitties. Mind you, I’ve never met this person or these nice kitties. All boundaries were lost. It’s like when you get broken up with via text but you’re in the middle of class and you go into zombie tunnel vision and stand up, palm the face of your teacher when he asks what you are doing, and walk out without any of your things and withdraw from school and never return again.


After meeting the kitties, nice neighbor doll lady came down and offered to help us, MEANING going through the trash to look for evidence. We tipped all the recycle bins looking for boxes while she literally fucking CLIMBED INTO THE DUMPSTER WITH A BROOM AND GARDENING GLOVES FOR PROTECTION. She’s what people a year ago would’ve referred to as “a bad bitch.”

No luck though.

We’ve had leads from other neighbors saying they saw the boxes at our door around 7pm. The time frame narrows. 

I’ve been checking eBay and craigslist for possible leads in the meantime.

I don’t even care about the boots (alright maybe a smoocheroo worth because they were ADORABLE AND PRACTICAL) but I think I’m more sad that this is something that a human being did. I know the atrocities of the world but I still find it unfathomable that someone walking by saw a package and thought “hm, mine now!” I felt guilty for taking a dime off the ground of an office that wasn’t mine. I found a few dollar bills dropped underneath a table at a bar and stuck it in the tip cup because IT WASN’T MINE. This is coming from a girl who brought her Lion King pop-up book into kindergarten show and tell and found all the animals ripped out when she got it back from the Share Bin after recess.  It’s as if I’ve never learned what the X-Files has been preaching this whole time.


But, I don’t believe that. If this is a spectrum then I’m on the “I’m sure they will materialize in front of our door soon” end. Sigh.

In all our sleuthing though, we  found out we have a really huge backyard to hang out in. Who knew?


In joyous news, I realized I’ve lost 30lbs in the past year and a half. I guess when you hit the back half of your twenties your metabolism moves to a retirement community. It also didn’t help that my quality of life plummeted during the passing of one of my immediate family members. For anyone dealing with hardships and not feeling good, IT’S OKAY! Sometimes you have to eat a whole box of poptarts within 24 hours.  I wouldn’t recommend it long term but then again goddammit those babies are nice when you’re laying on the couch in the dark marathoning whatever show you’re addicted to.

Anyways, my secret to success? MOVING. As in, not sitting and having my muscles atrophy. Also, eating food that isn’t poptarts. Brussel sprouts are cool. I also use products on my body that don’t have chemicals in them because it makes me feel less shitty. I literally tasted body scrub I bought because the ingredients were sugar, orange oil, and lemon oil. It was delicious and I don’t regret it. The deodorant I have is cocoa butter, coconut oil, and peppermint so it smells like a peppermint patty. I don’t eat that though. I do have standards and limitations, surprisingly.


                          OR DO I?



3 thoughts on “A Thief is Among Us

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