I am now officially over the incredulous amusement at someone coming back to our house and stealing our fireplace. I'm now deep into anger. Incredible fucking anger. Ass-kicking rage, even.

Note: This may reveal entirely too much about my thought processes, the way I see my place in the world, etc. So skip it if you want to preserve the illusion that I'm even slightly sane.

So just one burglary I would be ... not fine with, but philosophical about. It happens all the time. It's the fact that they came back and robbed us again that is seriously pissing me off. I mean, what the hell kind of contempt must they have for us -- for me (because it's all about me)? Obviously they thought I was powerless, not at all threatening, and an idiot to boot. "Hey, I know, let's go hit the same house we hit three days ago, except this time let's do something ridiculously complicated, like disconnecting the gas at a place where people can see us from the street? No one's gonna do anything -- the stupid yuppiescum chicks who live here won't notice and can't do anything, and no one in the neighborhood gives a damn if we rob them, so no one will call the cops."

Now I am self-aware (self-obsessed?) enough to know how ridiculous -- insane, even -- it is to be concerned about what a bunch of most likely crackhead theives think about my personal power and such. I mean, he/she/they couldn't give a shit about me -- they just took the opportunity to steal stuff. I'm just taking it a little personally. I mean, to come back! To rob us again! Grrrrrr.

I'm getting over this. I'll let you know when I move from anger to bargaining. Or is it acceptance?