I was all set to write an ode to the cheese curd in honor of my upcoming trip to Montreal, where, I was a little too excited to learn, cheese curds are a key component of the signature food. But then yesterday some lowlife piece of donkey shit had to go and burglarize my apartment, and now it's all I can think about.
Some money was stolen from me when I was at a waterpark in eighth grade, but since then it's been pretty much smooth sailing. I've never even lost my wallet. Last night, however, I returned home from work to find an empty space where my mp3-filled computer used to be, my brand new digital camera missing, and a wide open window. Post-shower this morning I threw some clothes at my laundry bag, but they hit the floor because that's gone too. I do hope the motherfucker enjoys my dirty underwear.
I was going to buy a new computer soon anyway, my parents generously offered to replace the camera, and shopping for cute undies is fun. But now I know that someone has been in my apartment, and based on a rudimentary understanding of criminals, it's pretty much a guarantee that he or she (who am I kidding--he) will be back. My neighbor, who once shared my false sense of security, has been robbed twice and now keeps his door to the roof locked. Thanks for warning me, dude. So now all I can do I guess is keep the roof door locked, lock my windows, close the shades, and pray to god I'm not home sick the day a face appears in the window causing me to have a heart attack and die. Oh, and apparently there's this nifty thing called renter's insurance. My mom's been telling me to get it since I moved in, and she erroneously assumed I was responsible enough to follow through. Silly, silly parents.
All in all, I guess there are some things you just have to learn the hard way. Like how it took me about ten blistering burns to accept the fact that whities like me do need to wear sunscreen. Hopefully I'll only have to learn this the hard way once.
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