My first response was, "God, look at all the shit I own," as it was strewn about my house.

When most of your life is taken out of its drawers and thrown across a room, you realize just how must useless stuff you possess.

I'm still not sure what was taken; less than they could have at least, since I do have plenty of stuff left. But everything that was taken had a memory associated with it.

TVs, VCRs, all meaningless objects to lose, but what was taken all had connections. Items purchased from trips abroad, given or received as gifts.

Luckily, the theives had an eye for easy cash, but not great art, as most of the really valuable things I own are on the walls.

I left the room as found for the first night, as if the police would come and learn something vaulable from it, and slept on the couch for the night.

When they came the next day, they said about what I expected: Lucky to not lose more, they were amateurs, and this sort of thing happens to everyone, including the officer that took the report.

He said that home robberies went up in our neighborhood when school got out for the summer, a sad fact I wish wasn't true.

At some point I'll get to cleaning things up and trying to figure out what drawers all this stuff came from. Maybe then I'll have a better idea of what was taken.

Well, aside from my peace of mind.