This is why we can't have nice things

Last night, I get home and pull into my garage. I'm getting my bag out of the backseat and I notice the door into my place is wide open. No lights are on and I am contemplating if I should go on inside. Then I realize that's what the dumb blonde that does in the first five minutes of every scary movie does. So, I get back into my car and back out of the driveway. 

I call the sheriff's office and ask to speak to someone I know. He's off. The guy answering asked what's was going on, and he transferred me to 911. Now, the dispatcher starts grilling me, making sure I didn't leave the door open myself etc. He stays on the phone with me until the officers arrive. 

Two squad cars drive up and tell me to stay outside. The whole time they were inspecting my house, I'm worried they're going to have to shoot someone in my living room and that's just going to piss me off. 

I have this beautiful white rug in there. It's a one of a kind and retailed for more than I care to admit! Let's just say it's hand loomed and leave it at that. 

Now, about twenty minutes go by before the two men come out to get me. But, I didn't hear any shots fired, so I'm counting it as a win. They tell me everything looks ok, nothing looks as if it had been gone through. But they want me to double check since I'm the one who lives here. 

Nothing had been stolen, thankfully. No one was bleeding to death on my rug. And all seemed to be ok. I counted these all as a win! 

They proceeded to give me a lecture about safety and advised me to call if I needed anything else. Maybe I just need a guardian. Or a pool boy to do these things for me. Feel free to apply! 

Talk to me soon!