Yesterday I opened a box from the State's Attorney. Among other things, it contained a black wallet, a first-generation iPod, and a cellphone. I felt like I was handling the contents of a time capsule: people used these things? iPods were this big?
The objects, of course, are the impounded evidence from my mugging on
August 8 2004. At the time I optimistically thought (and journaled) that I would reclaim my stuff a week after the incident. Instead, I waited 17 months. I do not begrudge a second of the time: that I receive anything at all is due to a beneficient God and a quick-thinking detective on the UCPD.
All this being said, I'm glad it's over. I've long since replaced my wallet and cellphone, and learned to make do without an iPod. (The Shuffle doesn't count.) Receiving my property is mostly a symbolic gesture, but nonetheless appreciated for the closure it brings.
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Speaking of closure, readers (all two of you) may have noticed I haven't been journaling recently. I've held off on LJ, partly due to competing pressures from work or school, and partly to limit my time in front of the computer. If you miss my ramblings on saints and other things, I'm sorry. I miss doing them. But unless something really important happens, don't look for me again until next September, if at all.