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The office of Degenerate Press was broken into again. Some of you may recall the difficult month the staff had last summer just before leaving for Europe. Well, I woke up sick, worked as long as I could and came back to the office only to find it had been ransacked. The second story window had been clambered into and our portable PC made more portable than desired. And our good camera with god-only-knows-what on the film inside was snatched, along with our new backpack. That'll teach me to go to work sick! Then the car repair shop calls to tell me the bill will be twice as much, and take twice as long, as hoped. The officer comes, an hour and a half after calling 911, and takes the report. I then notice the thief also took one of the extra keys to the front door. Without a car, I can't run to the hardware store to get another lock! Cool, huh? So I call a friend to share my woes, only to find her in a deeper state of woe - her father died this morning of cancer.
Good thing they didn't take my gun, may have to use it pretty soon...
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