I promise that soon this blog will stop being all woe-is-me-I-got-burgled and start being about all the different ways I make a mess of my life, like usual.
This post falls somewhere in between, because it’s really not the burglar’s fault that I can’t find my toenail clippers. Regardless of any culpability, this missing item resulted in my toes finally poking through a pair of favorite striped socks which are at least 10 years old. This, of course, happened at rehearsal when I really couldn’t put my shoes back on.
I try to repair socks because I hate being a “Waste-e-roo”, but with how busy my life is these days, I’m not too inclined to add anything to my darning pile. Unfortunately I don’t see much of a choice in the matter because apparently when thieves steal jewelry they put it in your socks to take it out.
When the detectives were here, marveling at how my apartment had been ransacked (I had to fess up that it had been that messy when I left in the morning) they asked if anything else was gone. I said “I must be imagining this, but I think they took my socks”. They were the ones who filled me in on the thievery technique.
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