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So I leave the apartment this morning to go to work in much the same fashion that I normally do. I always slog through weekday mornings half-asleep, that's just the way I operate. I've got my routine so as long as I stick to that I can do the robot through the first part of the day and wait until I get my coffee to actually regard things on more than autopilot.

Unfortunately, today my routine was torn asunder when I stepped into my Tracker and noticed that everything from my glove box was out in the passenger seat. Somebody had ransacked my vehicle.

And then reality stopped. There I was staring at the pile of stuff. The first thing I checked for was my car title which was thankfully there. Then I just stared a bit more.

I was surprised I was so calm. Somebody had broken into my car and I was completely calm. Of course, it was to be expected. I have a convertible thanks to that being the cheapest thing available when my Buick broke down. It's funny, I used to think that a convertible was some ritzy sign of affluence as a kid but now it's just a rain hassle and extra insurance expense.

That and locking the doors is just saying "Please, don't steal from me."

So there you have it. I'd been anticipating a breakin to my car since I got it and it finally came to pass.

Makes me wonder if I had something to do with it. Whether or not the person who did the deed was just satisfying some need I'd put out into the network.

I'm glad I don't have a CD player.