Untitled.
26 June 1998
![[ ]](http://mbpix.mushroom.net/19980626y.png)
last night someone broke into my car. in the middle of nowhere rural connecticut, someone broke into my old, beat-up volkswagen. they ripped the glove box lid off its hinges, stole a flashlight, lighter, plush frog, and about $20 in emergency money. it just boggles my mind. anyone who knows me would know that i'm broke, and there's not going to be anything worth all that trouble in my car. and if they don't know me, what were they expecting to find anyway?
it's true that when you've been robbed, you feel violated. it didn't last long, but i was surprised to find that i was shaking for about fifteen minutes after discovering it. and it didn't help that the local police have an unlisted number. that's just so fucking stupid. i had to call 911.
well, it's behind me now. i just have to figure out what i'm going to do with all the papers that were in my glove box..
over lunch i felt that that my car being broken into must be some kinda metaphor for something else in my life.
it's true that when you've been robbed, you feel violated. it didn't last long, but i was surprised to find that i was shaking for about fifteen minutes after discovering it. and it didn't help that the local police have an unlisted number. that's just so fucking stupid. i had to call 911.
well, it's behind me now. i just have to figure out what i'm going to do with all the papers that were in my glove box..
over lunch i felt that that my car being broken into must be some kinda metaphor for something else in my life.