I’d love to complain about Okajima, Masterson and Papelbon messing with Crabcakes’ game and losing the final game at Yankee Stadium, but I can’t.Â I only listened to the first couple of innings and then lots of hell broke loose.
So I’m using this space to vent because, well because I can.
I discovered this afternoon that my pocketbook had been stolen.Â Right out of the bag I carry (it’s a small pocketbook), and right from my cubicle at work.Â My office is pretty wide open but my cubicle is set in and I’ve never been worried about keeping my purse in my bag…yeah, someone came in my office while I was in the ladies room, grabbed my purse and bolted, without anyone knowing.Â All my credit and debit cards were in there as was my driver’s license (with a truly hideous photo…) my home and work keys and my monthly t-pass.Â Luckily, there was no money.
I call one of the banks I have a debit card with and they gave me a list of places the asswipe who took my bag tried to use the card.Â Genius that this person is, he/she tried to use it at two different ATM machines, four different times…since my pin number isn’t something you could figure out just by having my license, they failed each time and locked themselves out of using the card.Â I called all the other institutions I bank or have credit with and the person didn’t try using any of the other cards before I got them shut off.Â So there’s that.
I still feel extremely violated, having this happen in a place that is pretty much my second home…and I’m pissed because I have a bit of a big weekend planned.Â Tomorrow the Taylors get to go to Fenway, Saturday we say goodbye to Bridget, and Saturday andÂ Monday I’m supposed to be going to Pawtucket.Â My emotions are running from being upset, to being nervous to being pissed…so the Sox losing one out of three games in a walk off courtesy of HGHiambi isn’t registering too high right now.
Oh, I also lost, pretty much, an entire afternoon at work and now will be working late to get the work done I couldn’t do while I was canceling all my stuff and ordering a new license.
I wouldÂ never dream of doing something so shitty to someone.Â It’s upsetting me that someone was assholey enough to do it to me.
I think IÂ need a drink.Â And a hug.