So yesterday my car was broken into. It was parked in the middle of my office parking lot, surrounded by the coworkers' cars. The "incident" happened some time during the middle of the afternoon, when our parking lot is usually quite busy.
The perpetrator(s) used some sort of tool to wedge between the front and back window and popped the front window to smithereens. It appears they were after a work bag I had in the back seat. I suspect they thought the bag contained a laptop. It didn't. All that was inside was a microphone and digital recorder and other odds and ends of the journalistic trade. They had no use for any of the stuff and dumped it back in the car and ran off. Here's where the irony comes in. My laptop was in the car. It was hidden underneath my driver's side seat. If they had looked closely, they could have seen the edge peeking out. But they missed it completely, got nothing for their time or effort and left me with a busted up car.
Part of me feels victorious. I foiled the would-be villains!
Part of me feels stupid. I left the bag in my car where anyone could see it.
Part of me feels grateful. It could have been much worse than just a broken window.
Mostly I just feel tired. Tired of dealing with grown-up problems. Tired of doing all of this alone. Tired of having no one to turn to and no one to cry with when bad things happen. Tired.
And then I remember that I have someone who sings me to sleep every night (Zeph 3:17). I have someone who loves me with an everlasting love (Jer 31:3). I have someone who satisfies me and makes me feel young again (Psalm 103:5). I have someone who protects me when I feel alone and scared (Psalm 27:5).
I have someone.