Trouble(d) at the Knoll

Always a sprinter, never a marathon-runner.  It's so much easier to be positive in bursts, but extremely difficult to keep it up.  The negative energy is getting to me, as my morning drive is mostly spent trying to spot white GMC Suburbans, thinking "Is that the Suburban that the burglars drove?"  It's a double-edged sword to know exactly what they (and their vehicle) look like.  Although I know that they aren't folks I have to see every day, it's easy to imagine them rifling through my dresser drawers :(

Anyone who knows me well can imagine how my mind would work in this situation.  I'm a person that rarely ever loses things, and is generally quite organized.  I've come to accept that although I tend to have clutter around me, I can usually find most things in under 5 minutes, which is the true definition of being "organized."  Many adjectives have been used to describe me over the years (remind me not to ever say "anal" and "stick-in-the-mud" in the same sentence again!), but "lax" and "happy-go-lucky" aren't on the list.  I tend to over-analyze things, so this situation is really less than ideal for me.  I spent 45 minutes yesterday before work looking for a puzzle box I KNOW was in my office in front of my printer, with a little necklace inside it.  It's not in the office, and it's not in the rest of the house either.  Neither are the 2 Caesar's Palace gaming chips my father gave to me when I was ten after I found out our house burnt down.  Seriously, you steal gaming chips?

It's really not any of the things missing that bothers me.  I've never been really wrapped up in actual things, but more the idea of them.  Having a fully-stocked pantry has always been comforting to me, and the idea that we were totally private in the house was too.  Someone asked me if the burglars took anything from my fridge, though I'm sure that person immediately thought better of it a moment too late.  Never did that occur to me, though it sure does now when I reach for that jalapeno ranch dressing.  Did they try my fresh salsa that Paul and I had made together just days before?  Were they tempted by the tuna salad that has not aged gracefully?  Too many questions.  Not enough answers.

Yet...