holiday fun
My apartment was robbed on Sunday. It seemed like a weird case. The person kicked in the door. This is a deadbolted solid wood door, it would take multiple people or crazy-high-on-something kind of strength to break it. The only things we could tell were missing were a bag of sweaters that were on the kitchen table, my discman, and card with my bank account and SS number on it (ironically, I had taken it out of my wallet so I wouldn’t loss it in Detroit). Dave thinks his camera may be missing.
I’m not entirely sure the card was taken and not shuffled in and thrown out with a bunch of newspapers. Still, I’ve got the number flagged and changed my accounts not that that will make a damn bit of difference. If someone tries to use my ss number to open an account all that will happen is the bank will say this number is flagged and give them an account anyway. And if they should turn them down, actually say you are clearly not the person you claim you are, they just leave and find another bank. Grrr.
It’s making me worry about the gifts I ordered online, if they’ll be at the door or get stolen. That was always a concern, granted, but Donald gets on my case when I send them home and when their skinny packages the postman usually leaves them between the screen door and the front door. Now we keep the screen door locked. Dave is worried about me walking home alone. One of those moments, you realize how vulnerable you are.
I’m not entirely sure the card was taken and not shuffled in and thrown out with a bunch of newspapers. Still, I’ve got the number flagged and changed my accounts not that that will make a damn bit of difference. If someone tries to use my ss number to open an account all that will happen is the bank will say this number is flagged and give them an account anyway. And if they should turn them down, actually say you are clearly not the person you claim you are, they just leave and find another bank. Grrr.
It’s making me worry about the gifts I ordered online, if they’ll be at the door or get stolen. That was always a concern, granted, but Donald gets on my case when I send them home and when their skinny packages the postman usually leaves them between the screen door and the front door. Now we keep the screen door locked. Dave is worried about me walking home alone. One of those moments, you realize how vulnerable you are.