Happy Monday!

I hope everyone had a great weekend. My brain is slowly deciding not to be a negative pile of burgle thoughts more and  more as the days go. I even stayed home alone while Jake went to dinner with a friend the other night. I was making real progress until we went to bed last night, then I was basically certain there was herd of scary men tromping down my hallway after I heard a creek in the floorboard. Anyway, Thanks again for your comments. It’s funny. I have sometimes felt very frustrated when people compare their medical stories to make me feel better about Piper. It was the hardest in the beginning when she was a premie. We knew she had some serious health issues, but no one could get over the fact that she was a premie. People would tell me that their friend’s cousin’s oldest sister’s baby came way earlier than mine, so there was no way pip wasn’t going to be better in no time. They obviously all meant well, but it just never provided any comfort. What I’m saying is in this case it’s totally opposite. The more stories I’ve heard about people getting robbed or burgled or broken into, the more I feel like one day we’ll feel safe and normal again. Thank you from the bottom of my broken burgled heart.

The real reason I’m writing this post, is that a really awesome blogger named Megan of Greetings From Texas, has featured me as one of her favorite bloggers. It was fun to answer the questions, and brag about my picture with Jay Z.  So Megan is one of those girls who would leave a comment on here that would make me laugh so hard, I would immediately click back to her blog to find out what’s new with this chick. I think her blog is going to do very well. She is coming to NYC in a few months and my friend Jen and I have a secret plan to hang out with her!

Ok, so here’s the feature. Happy MLK day!

Jake and I went away to Utah over the weekend for a snowboarding trip with a few of our friends. We stayed at a beautiful resort in Snowbird, celebrated my brothers 30 birthday and had a great time.

On Monday night, we took the redeye back to NYC. After dropping Jake off in midtown a little after 7am Tuesday morning so he could head downtown for work, I headed home uptown. I was exhausted and annoyed that I had to stop at 10th ave to get gas. I was very cranky after being stuck in traffic and looking for a parking spot and trying to not fall asleep at the wheel while doing so, I had a quick thought that this morning could not get worse.

Then I walked into my apartment and immediately knew something was wrong.

The first thing I noticed was the the coat closet door was open. I thought it seemed weird that I would leave that open on my way out of town. Then I walked into the living room and put down my suitcases. I looked into my bedroom and saw the cedar chest at the end of my bed had been pushed over a few feet. I thought “why would Jake move that?”. Then I remembered that I had picked up Jake from work before we went to the airport for our trip, and I was the last person in the apartment. Then I looked on the floor and saw my sewing scissors in front of the cedar chest, they were broken. The denial was starting to fade, and the reality that someone had been in my home set in.

I didn’t really know what to do. What if he was hiding behind my shower curtain? Should I call 911 or look up the number for the Precinct in my neighborhood? I decided on 911 and looked for more clues while I cried to the dispatcher. Most anything with a drawer had been gone through. There was a giant shoe print on my white couch from where he came in through the window. The curtain and rods were in pieces on the floor from a difficult entrance (they repelled into my window from my roof). The window to my fire escape was open from when he exited. My beloved antique cedar chest had been chipped and pried open with my heavy duty sewing scissors (which ended up breaking). The cops came within minutes and were thankfully very helpful. My super and landlord spent the day helping me fix up my windows so that it wont happen again.

It’s crazy. In the last day, I have spent every waking moment thinking about it. Someone was in my home. What did they want? I don’t know how I’ll ever think about anything else ever again.

 But, as much as this whole thing has scared me, I feel very lucky that scared is all I am. I’m not hurt or raped or dead. We’ll get over the few things that are broken or missing.

I don’t know how to end this post.