well aint that just fanciful

Yesterday I went to trusty Canadian Tire to buy some things for the house and when I came back I noticed that my laptop wasn't where I had left it. I looked around the house to see if Adriann or Danielle had used and it put it somewhere else. Then I noticed the back door had been broken into.

My laptop is gone. Adriann's laptop is gone. Danielle's laptop is gone. And Adriann's camera. This morning I went to get my new backpack for school, the backpack I had just sewn my compass patch onto, and I couldn't find it. It had my memory stick and my address book in it.

All my pictures, my music, and (most importantly) all my written work and letters that I ever really cared about are gone. Love letters, stories people have written and sent me. Everystupidfuckingthing.

Oh. And Bell didn't switch over our phone account properly so I had to call the police (and my dad...) from a payphone down the street. And the phone number of the only person in Montreal who I feel comfortable crying in front of was lost when the computer was taken. So I just waited for the police and my roommates to arrive so I could tell them the news. I got to watch construction workers build a condo across the street. I didn't know what else to do. They have built each condo offsite and are just plopping them down like large wooden pieces of lego, two pieces for every home.

So. Umm. Call? If you can get through. I've sent you the number.